When I am become again
the furniture of the universe,
my several entrails, teeth and tongue
at one with roots and lichen, all
the hurried turmoil of my days
dispersed, my marrow mixed with clays
and chandlers, all my molecules
restructured into rains: become again
will I be when, mere artefact
of nature’s whim, my stomach muscles
decompose to rainbows, all
my sinews stretch in stellar space,
my eyelash frets an insect wing,
my breath is caught in April winds
that trouble swollen lakes, that shake
the yellow scent from daffodils.
When I am become again ethereal,
my memories meshed with moistures
I will to look for you, my friend — these
many years a gleam along Orion’s sword,
whose laughter I’ve heard often
in the eaves at night. These,
my particles, far-scattered into twig
or stone or star, will seek you out.
I am a 7 Towers friend, having supped with Oran and Sarah when they visited NYC too long ago. I’m a performer poet (more performer) and want to read “When I Am Become Again”as a part of my next feature (now under construction)…with all credit to yourself, of course. I will do it a goodly justice, if you don’t object.
Very pleased to have this poem chosen to be read by you. I wrote it a good while ago. It was published in 1987 and I dedicated it to a teaching colleague who died tragically in a car accident while over here in Ireland on a teacher exchange programme. Unbelievably sad. Thanks Michelle and good luck with your performance.