This body,
this mind, are
at odds at times:
tugging at me
to be a certain way,
to render expectations,
or come to a neat reckoning
at this point of my life.

But I will not be swayed
or moved from this
drive to be the me
that I have crafted
as a fox who stalks
the passive sheep
and makes them run,
and hide, and play.

The body tells a story
and this mind is filled with doubt,
but then the spirit that animates
my willfulness opens up
this greater world not
caged by older age.

With words I will dig
and plunder and like my
ancestors I will roam,
confined, yet free, and daring
as I explore among the
grand old trees and the saplings,
and turn my eyes to the blue and black sky
and wonder in shards of language
about the mystery of who I be.

 

Inspired by The Fox by Ted Hughes