I had a moment when presence spoke up.
I was weaving back and forth, up and down
through the oak forest, suddenly, Ms. Presence
appeared: from branches, dips, mounds, holes, dirt,
wild grasses, that child’s voice came forth,
“Here I am. Watch me!”
September 23, 2020
(c) Gudrun Mouw
I have been asked to explain the meaning of this poem. I’m not sure if I’m able to do that adequately.
Perhaps, I was giving “presence” a persona, by calling her Ms. Persona. Where would she preside? What would she say?