I Am From Poem by Diana van den Berg

I am from
sun-leaf dreams
of horse and dog
and now cat too
gamboling in sky pastures
painting me cloud messages
wide and warm
and different every day
without which
I would surely perish
or go insane.

I am from nature rambles
amongst zebras
and buck
and sun-sparkled butterflies,
my shoulders loved by
South African sun,
my eyes adulating
skies of piercing blue;
poring over
fascinating spoor
and tiny Anomatheca laxa,
flowers in miniature petals song-red
that make me catch my breath
as I wander alone
so as not to desecrate,
with intrusive babble,
my worship of all that is born
of Earth and Sky and caroling Rivulet.

I am from tympanic words
on yellowed pages
of poetry books
read aloud
to honour
poets of yore
and of today’s poetry pages,
and to savour slowly
the music of their souls
to the very throbbing core.

I am from faltering notes
of Beethoven and Chopin
and Ole Faithful
on a trusty piano
in the corners of the night
so nobody can hear
and cringe
at musical aberrations
through years of neglect
to practise scales and read sheet music.

I am from delicious ponderings
of matters grave and light,
monumental and miniscule,
analytical and spontaneous,
laden and exhilarating.

I am from a past of tears and laughter,
a present of panic and wonderment
a future of cowardice and courage.

I am from fragile glass
and solid rock.
I am from whispered sweet nothings
and reverberating renditions of the Halleluia Chorus

I am from a heavy trunk of mistakes
and a snowdrop birth of learning curves
that metamorphose into sculpted goals
rough-hewn at first,
but seeking to be finely honed
to hear the tremulous song of the Universe.

I am from a me
who wants no more
and no less
than to be
me.

(Started 25 September 2010 – completed 13 January 2011)