Poet's Braggadocio

I could take the disarrangement of stars
and fit the universe in my throat.
I could spit out constellations
and have them line up obediently on paper.

I could make metaphors
out of valleys of lava and sulfur
and cradle the unattainable in my arms
as if it had just been born
into the raw and tangible.

And i could do this all
with little more than an empty field,
the crushed,
bleached
and dried remains of a tree,
the feather of a bird
and something to dip it in for ink.

Yes,
my god loves me,
and he lets me borrow a little taste
of his power
in special moments
that I call inspiration.

---

Written sometime in July, 2009