This was inspired by a kite-making workshop my friend Kat and I attended at Fort Warden in Washington State, when we turned 35. So much fun, such unusual people!
I am a yellow, green and turquoise Cellular Star,
daughter of Fluted Sled and Hexagonal Roller,
sister to a Rhombic Box, mother of a Mini Phantom.
I am in love with a man-lifting train.
We come in the colors of kindergarten.
My cousins drag lures for Polynesian fisherwomen,
my aunt releases souls of Nepalese peasants into the heavens.
I am the first item you put in your new home.
I am a six-winged cirrus asterisk within a star of David
within a star of David, within a star of David; hear my prayer.
I record batsong a mile high, pass notes
to the sky, carry spinnakers of intercession.
When I was younger I wanted to cover my faces in sheet music,
in snapshots, in newsprint and lists of things to do.
In my lolling I kaleidoscope, changing shape from solid star
to lacy snowflake, from wall of color to backlit tracery.
I have flown for three days at a stretch, and go out to greet
the smallest sliver moon, relieved at its return.
In aurora borealis I sing a lovesong to my skeleton,
in bright cumulus I learn active verb, alleluia.
When the moon one night is brighter than full I wonder
what tiny incarnation, what speck of a should ever merited
the tremendous gift of living and seeing,
and fit in the seed of myself? What was it?