"Eloher" - Dayna Patterson

You caterpillar across the page
of our thoughts. Flight is imminent.
Wings are more than metaphor.
If Father is sun, and Son is moon,

You are salt on a black tablecloth.
You season everything, hurtle millions
of lightyears to be near
us. You are spores, snowflakes, particles

of yellow pollen. You are aspen saplings,
diamonds forged in darkness, grains of sand
under oyster tongues. You’re neutrons,
You’re sea foam, You’re motes of dust

spinning in a shaft of afternoon light.
We’re mammal, still look for you against our cheek.
We’re marsupial, barely weaned from the pouch.
We’re reptile, straining against the skin of our eggs

to reveal Your face.

Dialogue Award for Poetic Excellence. First Place.


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