A Manifesto for the New Year

I have not got the music

but I have the words.

I have not got the dance steps

but I have the words.

I have not got the numbers

but I have the words.

I have not got the science

but I have the words.

I do not have the lovers (any more)

but I (still) have the words.

I call out loudly with the words.

I throw my arms up and my head back,

shouting the words triumphantly.

I whisper softly with the words,

bending close to your secret ear

and breathing them, 

exhaling so lightly you can hardly feel –

but listen hard and you'll hear.

Sometimes I shout them in rage. And outrage. 

Sometimes, I wish to whisper venom.

The words are mine

to do with as I will.

(God said so, 

who gave them to me at my birth.)

I can make them sing, 

I can make them dance.

I can make them count.

I can make them explain – if you will follow –

the secrets of the Universe.

I can make them bring back my lovers.

Yesterday is breaking up, falling away.

Yesterday is getting thrown out with the garbage.

But the old words live on,

unable to be entirely discarded.

Words have power. I call up the power

from deep inside. I call up the words

from where they too are anchored within.

I set them free. I let them loose.

Now I make them new, like seedlings, like cubs.

They will play. They will grow. They will climb all over you.

At 'imaginary garden with real toads', Bjorn invited us to write a manifesto for 2018. I am not much for such things ... but then I watched Patti Smith on YouTube (who does have the music and the dance as well as the words) and – in the mysterious way it happens – suddenly became inspired.

Also sharing this at Poets United's Poetry Pantry #386