In finishing the poems for Chasing Weather: Tornadoes, Tempest, and Thunderous Skies in Word and Image, the book I’m writing with Stephen Locke, I simply couldn’t get started on writing a poem to fit this magnificent photo. After many months of trying, I asked my Facebook friends to give me words to get going, and did they! I used all I could (got in coruscating, a new word to me), and am sorry I couldn’t make words like bicuspid work. Here’s the latest version of the poem, and if you want to get your copy of the book (and support our campaign to rush funds for the high quality color printing of so many amazing photos), please see the Indiegogo campaign we’re doing here. Thank you to everyone who so generously helped me find the words for this poem.
Two Bodies Always in Motion
A coruscating kaleidescope of fire, grief,
possibility, and beauty about to be ghosted
in the velvet memory of stars and eyes.
One body bends its light toward land,
the other mirrors its mirage into tall sky.
Yellow-bellied heavens ring jewel tones
of flicker, low notes of boom.
Skirts of electrical impulse rustle
stage curtains across the Great Plains.
What we call a sunbow, neon way of knowing,
thumbprint of the sun, lost ship of florescence
tipping its arctic ridges south
before vanishing north for another decade.
The light never leaves us, only wavers.
No one ever lost completely except
in one slot of time, one way of loving.
Always two bodies: our own, and the world’s.