The Poet As Metaphor, Earth, Self-Taught

A POET AS METAPHOR********** I am a poet from the common ground, From thIs blue planet’s distinctive character— of Continental shifts and rockslides, from valleys to Mountain crowns — always toiling to reclaim itself. I am a poet from the land and moil tread Over by hooves; feet; farmers’ tillers; uncounted Legions of warriors; and, too, raindrops blessing My thirst: before a scorching sun depletes my plenty. My roots scatter forth in every direction — Of a lightless substrata and above over the surface — Unalarmed by obstacles, they will simply Course under, around, through or over To the next stanza of life in modes questioning God’s necessary work on his majestic tapestries Comprised of inspirations and threads, instincts Or the free-willed interactions of all his created. My voice among all humanity, has seeded slowly, While fertilized in aloneness; self-taught In youth By the Romantics; and lately by wielding an adz To stones til thunder struck forcefully out... To now, drowning the body, unleashing all The buried emphasis to sprout through: thus, The young blades grow bending to this way Then that in more harmonious breezes, gracefully Brought on into verse, urging response. So rest, My poet’s soul, for the solitude’s been peeled open, Your pages teem with sister metaphors spiriting up Their wings in turns around the great lakesides. *****.....*****.....******.....*****.....******......******