Found poetry: Maya

I’ve been reading (and thoroughly enjoying) Starhawk’s novel Walking to Mercury. Several passages jumped out for me the other day, and as I copied them into my journal I found myself breaking the lines to make them into poems. (Maya is the name of the main character in the novel.)

***

Maybe this world is a thigh bone
trumpet, a temple horn through
which compassion calls. When we
respond, miracles happen.

– Maya, p. 412

***

Dead, he could have been anything
we wanted him to be. But alive, he was always
a small danger, a continual secret that we had
to bury, lest he turn up and turn into something
we didn’t expect and couldn’t cope with.

– Maya, p. 415

***

That’s why human beings were harder to love
than mountains, she thought. People were always
constructing themselves, using each other

as blue prints and foils and mirrors. Mountains were just
mountains, high or low, craggy or rounded,
forested or bare. They formed themselves

not in relationship to some ideal but in response
to real things: the shifting of the earth’s
plates, the pressure of molten lava, the action

of wind and rain and running water.

– Maya, p. 416

(all quotes from Walking to Mercury by Starhawk, 1997 Bantam edition)

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2 responses to “Found poetry: Maya

  1. This sounds like an interesting book as revealed through the eyes of Maya. The excerpts you have chosen say a lot. Blessings to you, Jennifer…

    • I’ve had this book for a few years and only just got around to reading it. I don’t think it would have resonated with me nearly as much had I read it before now. The mysterious ways of the Universe are marvelous indeed. Thanks for reading and commenting!

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