A belated note of gratitude to composer Oliver Caplan for his choral composition of my poem “CLOUD ANTHEM,” and to the New Hampshire All-State Festival Chorus for their dulcet tones. This performance, held on April 9, 2022, at the Capitol Center for the Arts in Concord, NH, is a moment to pause, breathe, and remember that we are always connected; we “hold light in our lucid bodies like blood…”

Learn more about Oliver Caplan HERE.

CLOUD ANTHEM

Until we are clouds that tear like bread but
mend like bones. Until we weave each other
like silk sheets shrouding mountains, or bear
gales that shear us. Until we soften our hard
edges, free to become any shape imaginable:
a rose or an angel crafted by the breeze like
papier-maché or a lion or dragon like marble
chiseled by gusts. Until we scatter ourselves—
pebbles of grey puffs, but then band together
like stringed pearls. Until we learn to listen to
each other, as thunderous as opera or as soft
as a showered lullaby. Until we truly treasure
the sunset, lavish it in mauve, rust, and rose.
Until we have the courage to vanish like sails
into the horizon, or be at peace, anchored still.
Until we move without any measure, as vast
as continents or as petite as islands, floating
in an abyss of virtual blue we belong to. Until
we dance tango with the moon and comfort
the jealous stars, falling. Until we care enough
for the earth to bless it as morning fog. Until
we realize we’re muddy as puddles, pristine
as lakes not yet clouds. Until we remember
we’re born from rivers and dewdrops. Until
we are at ease to dissolve as wispy showers,
not always needing to clash like godly yells
of thunder. Until we believe lightning roots
are not our right to the ground. Though we
collude into storms that ravage, we can also
sprinkle ourselves like memories. Until we
tame the riot of our tornadoes, settle down
into a soft drizzle, into a daydream. Though
we may curse with hail, we can absolve with
snowflakes. We can die valiant as rainbows,
and hold light in our lucid bodies like blood.
We can decide to move boundlessly, without
creed or desire. Until we are clouds meshed
within clouds sharing a kingdom with no king,
a city with no walls, a country with no name,
a nation without any borders or claim. Until
we abide as one together in one single sky.

How to Love a Country, Beacon Press 2019