I seem to be waking earlier than usual, which is allowing for poetry writing in the morning. Which has a knock on effect of allowing some posting time in the day. So I decided to do NaPoWriMo Day 6’s prompt while I am awake and rarin’ to go. (Which dear friends will tell you is not really me. I am usually an object of amusement in the morning.) Here is today’s prompt.
Go to a book you love. Find a short line that strikes you. Make that line the title of your poem. Write a poem inspired by the line. Then, after you’ve finished, change the title completely.Holly Lyn Walrath, NaPoWriMo.net, Day 6, 2021
As it happens I generally grab a poetry anthology first thing. Today it was Clive James’ The Fire of Joy. Since Walrath reckons really good poems need a killer first line I picked this from my random opening of the book.
I know that I shall meet my fateW. B. Yeats, An Irish Airman Foresees His Death
Breathing With each breath that takes me nearer death curiosity and courage carry me through climate both clement and complex. On a chart's vertex you find your fate is awaiting you. It crouches like the sleeping cat alert to its moment with one eye half-open, half-shut. What stranger will walk in? What global happening will call and you can answer, "Yes!" With that affirmative breath you step to the edge. Fly? Die? Who knows? But in that moment's embrace you meet all three Fates. What we spin and weave is complete. The thread is cut. Fini! Yet what could be worse than forever waiting just for the deciding time. To never arrive. For each breath simply to carry you nearer death. To have failed the moment. Walked passed the person, the place of destiny. Know that you shall go and meet fate. That you and that moment suspended in time are one, in harmony. You are history, not just your fate.
I usually publish my weekly poem on a Tuesday these days. Though Sunday may sometimes offer a bonus poem. So this counts as this week’s poem. Though there may be more if I keep waking early.