Cloud Nine, Group Poem at MAH Poetry & Book Arts

Cloud Nine

I come from a drop of water whipped from the San Francisco Bay.

I was whipped out of a drop of ink from a Crayola Washable Marker.

I was born in Israel, but grew up in London, my art and my writing grateful.

In San Francisco, I saw a sea lion in a drop of ink floating on a cloud on its way to London.

I shouted from my mother’s womb, let me out, swivel summer New Jersey fall, not to return there and wait.

I come from the whisper of a ghost’s wings and to that I shall return.

In between I’ll write and love and move my body from Toronto to San Francisco, Why not?

I come from the Michigan dunes, on the fence of a gluttony vacation. I’m going to wood ash with a Manchester tan, a jungle thief on an oceanic journey of pain.

I come from the tip of a mountain and entered the lens of your telescope – Now I am you or a part of you and I’m with you and go everywhere you go! We are inseparable.

I come from Wonder to visit Mystery.

I came from a child’s imagination. I’m on the way to make those visions come true.

Another year lies ahead of us. A blank canvas for you to behold, all for us to mold.

I walk from a winter desert into an opening and healing.
I was the innermost figure in a Russian nesting doll set and have grown to embrace the world.