Journey
By Ana Vulić
I need a swing of the sun and the shadow of a tree,
I need a basket full of peace
and a trumpet so the beast doesn't swallow it,
I need a song
so my iris doesn't vanish from shame.
I nudge time toward the earth
to gather it in a wonderful weaving
and wander through the wilderness of unrest
to see if it might be transformed into gentleness.
I laugh at my game
wondering if anyone has ever heard
of a tamed dragon owned by a poetess.
Eventually, I embrace all that is presented in verses
due to the concealed spark
that glows within them
until an unseen fire calms the unease:
The moon follows me throughout the day
as I voice my thoughts at night.
I summon an assembly of men
during this time of the Sacred Circle
in the homeland
that has enchanted me with its tender affection.