Blue Child In Motion

 "Blue...songs are like tattoos / you know, I've been to sea before" --Joni Mitchell "Blue"

When I was a child, I learned
that not much falls from a blue sky.
Bored by the blandly pretty and never satisfied,
I waited on storms like rescuers.

When I was a child I tossed
my minnow-thoughts to gulls I alone could see. 
By the cold waters of Lake Superior one summer,
I listened for my native tongue from every shell.

Later, I'm not sure I saw myself or my spouses at all
through the bottle glass I blew with every word.
From inside whales and outside of any map,
I did find saving grace in my own restless nature.

Now, it comes to me with the red sky at night,
that the Argo and the Dutchman fly
with my childhood gulls, and if I seem melancholy or far away,
it is because I am, and have always been

this blue child in motion on the electric air of my imaginings.

for The Sunday Muse #61.


Carrie Van Horn said…
I think when our childhood holds too much pain or too little joy it makes us restless and keeps us searching for something more. I feel that in this amazimg poem. I think that restlessness created an amazimg poet named Shay! I know that searchimg and can relate deeply! I love every line! You have captured so much from the photo! I love this so much!
Sherry Blue Sky said…
This is SO beautiful. So lovely......the red sky at night, the air of your imaginings. Sigh. I will never be able to write like you. But thank God, I can read you.
Vicki said…
Oh, that first stanza rocked me to my core! Love it so much, really beautiful, Shay!
Cloudia said…
"in motion on the electric air of my imaginings" Bravura
Beautiful, Shay.
I have just bowed . . :)
That last line is brilliant, Shay!
robkistner said…
This is wonderful Shay! Mesmerizing, engaging, magical — I really liked it! And the quote from my soul lover... oh yes...
robkistner said…
Not your problem I know Shay, but just sharing some frustration. I am unable to leave a comment on most all of the blogger sites of the participants here — including the Sunday Muse site itself. I have no trouble on your Blogger site. If I can’t leave comments for the writers posting here on The Sunday Muse, sorta takes the pleasure out of this site. Just sayin’... I have no trouble with the dVerse poets? Seems everyone on here blocks anyone who is not a Blogger user. Rant over — sorry!
Fireblossom said…
Rob--I know there have been a lot of problems between Blogger and WordPress. That's why I have to use "coalblack" on WP. But I am pleased that my blog lets you comment--they have made it harder all the time. Glad to see you, and sorry to hear you are having difficulties posting; that would tend to dampen the fun of it. :-(
C. Sandlin said…
Love that last line--it brings the language of the storm right through the poem.
Susie Clevenger said…
I relate to this. I've spent a good part of my life trying to find my place in the world. I think my spirit is supposed to be a gypsy.
Marian said…
Oh Shay, I so relate to this... if I seem melancholy, or far away, it is because I am, and here is why. I appreciate the exposure of this poem, and its color.
Oh, how I love that last line! And the rest of the poem nearly as much.
hedgewitch said…
Everything I expect from one of your pieces, Shay--delicacy, truth, mood and just that touch of deep sadness that gives a statement reality, like a shadow thrown by the sun defines an object.I think anyone who has been intensely unhappy as a child has this well of sadness, and it can take many forms, some of them not so pretty. But when it is coupled with a fine poet's imagination, it can fly and soar as well as make us weep, and that is exactly what it does here. Blue is my favorite color.
Maude Lynn said…
That last line is so softly exquisite! I love this.