NaPoWriMo 2012: three

Swooping on the currents above, I am surfing

the air, unrestrained joy, one with the flow
of lift and drag, the tiniest shift propelling me
towards the enormity of everything that is.

Darting from meadow to trees then back, all senses
on alert, watching, sniffing, aware, I am grounded,
sure of foot and present, connected. The breeze
warns me of potential danger and I know my strength
lies in the quick get away, outrunning it all.

Under rocks and trees, I am slinking through soil,
my world a darkening tunnel, winding forwards
then backwards, crescendoing into warmth where
the sun touched the ground, soaking into bliss.

This poem was prompted by my friend Maya Creedman, who asked if I could write "an animal 'I am' poem" for her. I'm not quite sure this was what she had in mind, since it isn't a repetitive "I am" poem (except that each stanza -- a different animal -- has an 'I am') but it is what it is.

Sometimes the hardest part of a poem for me is the title (sometimes the title comes first, sometimes it doesn't). I'm just leaving this one untitled for now, since the only title I can come up with is a line from a Walt Whitman poem, Song of Myself ("I contain multitudes") but I'd rather have that be a epigraph, since direct quotes as titles is kinda odd.

The photo is of iguanas at the National Zoo, from our trip yesterday. I processed it in Picasa a little more than usual, just for fun.