I am always trying to make my way
to that clearing where the gods
hewn from wood sit patiently
watching over their stores of grain—
They fix me with a look I can feel
no matter how far I still am
from that goal: by the shiver
that runs down my spine I know the light
cupped by each tree late in the day
is beaten almost to its thinnest;
a sheet that ripples, numen in each
dent and vein. And I am draped
in the cloth of everything woven before
my time: syllables issue from my lips
in sleep, whose meanings I ache for
all the hours I’m awake. Take me
in your arms, I beg of the unseen.
They only stroke my cheek the same
way I was nudged as a child, made
to keep up on a path whose end
kept vanishing in the just up ahead.
Poet Luisa A. Igloria (Poetry Foundation web page, author webpage ) is the winner of the 2015 Resurgence Prize (UK), the world’s first major award for ecopoetry, selected by former UK poet laureate Sir Andrew Motion, Alice Oswald, and Jo Shapcott. She is the author of What is Left of Wings, I Ask (2018 Center for the Book Arts Letterpress Chapbook Prize, selected by Natasha Trethewey); Bright as Mirrors Left in the Grass (Kudzu House Press eChapbook selection for Spring 2015), Ode to the Heart Smaller than a Pencil Eraser (Utah State University Press, 2014 May Swenson Prize), Night Willow (Phoenicia Publishing, 2014), The Saints of Streets (University of Santo Tomas Publishing House, 2013), Juan Luna’s Revolver (2009 Ernest Sandeen Prize, University of Notre Dame Press), and nine other books. She is a member of the core faculty of the MFA Creative Writing Program at Old Dominion University which she directed from 2009-2015. In 2018, she was the inaugural Glasgow Distinguished Writer in Residence at Washington and Lee University. When she isn’t writing, reading, or teaching, she cooks with her family, knits, hand-binds books, and listens to tango music.