Clifford Saunders: ‘To a Young Poet’

To a Young Poet

Be the first path coming into focus
on a night full of stars.

Be the star that ripens on the vine.
O shining star of new energy!

Be the question at the heart of everything.
Be a savvy eater of the absurd,

glad to escape the eyes of search dogs.
O great tide spirit! O great leaf

of hope painted by the moon!
Be a lightning rod about to change

into a crimson bone of contention.
Always be the shimmering wall

that extends from faith to autonomy.
O satellite of the corn!

O song of the mountain!
Be a green chair of honor

in the sewing room of originality.
Be a courier of love for the rest

of September, any damn love
that’s puzzling to the waves.

Once smitten, you are alive
with the sound of the surf.

Clifford Saunders