Psalm of the Green Wanderer
by Lori A. Claxton
Bedeck my coat with seedling shoots,
With slim lianas lace my boots,
And weave a crown of plantlet roots
to set upon my brow.
With creeping ivy plait my hair,
Bid spiders weave me silk to wear,
And rouge my cheeks with morning air,
and send me wandering now.
Among the arching trees I’ll go
To learn what they would have me know.
I’ll follow rivers where they flow
to hear what words they say.
I’ll pass through forests, meadows, streams,
In pollen-dappled sunshine beams,
In rain that glistens, ice that gleams,
’til I grow winter-gray.
Then when my wandering days are run,
My coat in tatters, boots undone,
I’d like to rest beneath the sun
and there breathe my last breath.
Then let me sink into the earth
To lend one gnarled old body’s worth
Of life to give new seedlings birth
and so grow life from death.
* * *
Lori A. Claxton draws inspiration from folklore, fairy tales, and the natural world. She feels equally at home in forests and books and has been known to get lost in both. Lori lives in Western Massachusetts with her husband George and lots of books and yarn. Some of her other work may be found here: medium.com/@loriclaxton
What do you think is the most important aspect of a fantasy poem?
For me, it's a sense of magic or whimsy. If the poem has that, then it is in itself a sort of spell, through which the impossible is made possible.