Hybrid Song

Child of mother fish,
child of father oak,
when you arrived half gills,
half leaves

you were pushed off to swim
in a far off glade.
With fins to let your life glide on,
you trailed your roots

and told a lily in the snow
night and day rise equally,
that odd is beautiful.

Oak and fish denied
they mated in the rain.
Father fell on his knees
in a gale.

Mother swallowed another day.
You dawdled for years.
One day you found a grove of birds.
Who will love you? they cawed.

Birds at odds, you said.
When you found clouds,
who will you love? they sighed
from their long, white ships.

Preparing to stand your ground,
preparing to swim out far,
you were what you were.
Clouds, clouds, you answered them.

Copyright © 2002 Colette Inez All rights reserved
from Clemency
Carnegie Mellon University Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission