Joseph S. Plum
Poetry
Poet in the Oral Tradition
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vibrations
beside myself
i see a fool
a ghost
a spirit-being
who looks
a lot like me
and when we stand
so very still
what once was one
then became two
now turns again to three
for if by chance
our shadows cross
and the earth
is forced to compromise
from the very depths
of where light
and dark are one
a cascading sense of self
begins again to rise
vibrations
of an ancient spirit
ancestral fiber
of the tribes
enters skillfully
by way of my feet
and flows
upward
out my eyes
in the grasp
of every waking moment
undoubtedly left
by those who sent us
to be offered up
in the speech
of the ones
who know it
is a hidden pathway
built of steps
well worth the learning
each one an open gateway
of non-returning
when i was a child
and first entered into
this world of becoming
i drew down from the stars
a true sense of belonging
fathered by the light
of a great day in the morning
i grew strong through the process
of the old gods fulfilling
a promise to us
their children of the dawning
fostered
by the night wind’s commitment
i reached the age of reason
and passed right on through it
until the day came
when i was ten
and there
for the benefit of those gods
i conducted that wind
into harmony
as liquid darkness poured in
i learned
that borderline poetry
was to be sunk
into a wellspring of time
buried
in a casket of rhyme
when i was ten
cedar root caves held stones
which would bleed
at my touch
and then my legs
would not stand
my mouth
would not speak
my mind would not recall
this world
or this world’s sun
eyes
that once were mine
would return with time
to fix themselves
upon the red stain
of my hands
and rising up
weak
from within the ground
i would stumble away
now the years go by
this lifetime too
pocketing
childhood effervescence
like crushed flowers
still i know
a sure sign
of something strong
when i see it
smell it
hear it
taste it
face it
on the air
again tonight
something strong moves
taking my thoughts away
stopping my heart
touching my spirit again
until my breath comes
as thunder before the wind
and the wind
then sings for me
breathing in
a homeland around me
bringing
a feast of dreams
to feed me
me
the one who comes
up out of silence
