Joseph Campbell is known for his writing about the hero’s journey, and you’ll find that journey traced in countless fairy tales, let alone in great poetic works such as Homer’s Odyssey.
We’re been tracing a life journey, hopefully a heroic one, in this year’s Progressive Poem. I’m happy to have the chance to add my line—my two cents or, in this case, my seven iambs. Caroline, I was briefly tempted to give you a horrendously difficult word to rhyme, but I resisted the urge. Can’t wait to see your line, and then two more from Ruth and Tara!
I have taken the bold step of titling the poem, though Irene can change that if she likes. “Progressive Poem” just doesn’t seem pretty enough for what we’ve been doing. (But “The Journey” seems a little too obvious!) And of course there are three eggs. This is a story.
I love the hopes/dreams/possibilities/
insert symbol of your choice that those eggs represent.
|image courtesy of WikiCommons|
Three Blue Eggs
Sitting on a rock, airing out my feelings to the universe
Acting like a peacock, only making matters that much worse;
Should I trumpet like an elephant emoting to the moon
Or just ignore the warnings written in the rune?
Those stars can’t seal my future; it’s not inscribed in stone.
The possibilities are endless! Who could have known?
Gathering courage, spiral like an eagle after prey,
Then gird my wings for whirlwind gales in realms far, far away.
But, hold it! Let’s get practical! What’s needed before I go?
Time to be tactical—I’ll ask my friends what I should stow.
And in one breath, a honeyed word whispered low—dreams—
Whose voice? I turned to see. I was shocked. Irene’s!
“Each voyage starts with tattered maps; your dreams dance on this page.
Determine these dreams—then breathe them! Engage your inner sage.”
The merry hen said, “Take my sapphire eggs to charm your host.”
I tuck them close—still warm—then take my first step toward the coast.
This journey will not make me rich, and yet I long to be
Like luminescent jellyfish, awash in mystery.
I turn and whisper, “Won’t you come?” to all the beasts and birds
And listen while they scamper, their answers winging words:
“Take these steps alone to start; each journey is an art.
You are your own best company. Now it's time to depart!"
I blow a kiss. I hike for days, blue eggs pressed to my chest.
One evening’s rest, campfire low, shifting shadows brought a guest.
A boy, with hair in wild waves and eyes blue as the sea,
Says, “You’ve traveled far. What did you find—your best discovery?”
“I found a bird, I found a song, I found a word,” I say.
My thanks to Irene for hosting this event, and to our roster of very cool participants (listed on the sidebar!).
Thank YOU, Kate! I can't wait to see how the poem ends!!!