anne • sikking

ANTHEM

 

Let's know, before hunger, dark, light,

before a stomach's rumble, or pain, or sight,

before taste, touch or sound,

even before we could turn around,

there was movement, a subtle start –

the rhythm, the beat of our mother's heart.

 

Let's resist being told only others matter.

Let's free ourselves from celebrity chatter.

None are more interesting or of more value

than the true of me, the true of you.

Let's know we are poets, victorious.

For we are. We are. All of us.

 

Let's drum out our distinctive rhyme.

We are each the only one of our time.

Let's bring the tempo of our mother's womb

to paper and pen. Listen: ba-boom, ba-boom.

May we knit together life's blessing and curse,

may we be poets of our unique universe.

 

Once and for all and never again.

Amen. Amen. Amen.