Here, but for me, there be dragons
Am learning to speak myself
into being. With a word, a phrase,
can change where I’ve been, what
I might become.
Chart a course by inner compass
locked onto stars only I know
the names of. Sail seas of inmost soul
pulled by currents of peculiar knowing
Traverse plains of tall grass
on padded paws, moving over
continents wrapped round
this spinning globe of spanned seasons.
Split darkness of interior canyons
on silent wings, seeking that life
which hides in deepening shadow.
Pen in hand, create a map of fine blue
lines, conquering worlds built by other
Make myth from these moments of owned
existence, confident in knowing that all
these dragons be mine.
Elizabeth Crawford 1999
Notes: This piece was the title poem for a small chapbook I published in 1999. It remains a favorite because it comes straight out of my Personal Mythology. The image is a pen and ink drawing I did for the back cover of that small volume. The poems within its covers are about writing and how I see and feel about that subject.