Image: Emily Dickinson Dream – Miki De Goodaboom
My Soul Chooses
—inspired by Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul selects her own Society”
My soul chooses to follow fellows
Who know how to comprehend light
My companions close the door
To blather and strife
Behind them reigns a world of motion
Ranging wider than any ocean.
The divine leanings gather brutal winds
I watch as a stagecoach approaches.
The modesty of my memory prevails
In the open prairie of gun smoke
And other cactus trials—
All the while I light candles
I have never seen a queen stirring
Along baffled corridors
Nor has any emperor ever tried
My door with a heavy hand
Using an eyeball for glory
I will not choose other ways
Where they flock to steal
The hearts and minds of strangers
As they lie and cajole for power
I select one small twig
As my soul moves to the stars
Where my heart knows the stone
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