Voices on the Wind
Voices on Waiting
Work Hard Enough, You Can Be Anything
by Laura Grace Weldon
You were fed that particular crock
fed it to your children as well
though it's entirely freeing
to round the corner past early ambition,
each choice tilting you farther
from musician, astronaut,
sea captain, dancer,
toward something else,
not fate exactly, but a closer approximation
of who you are.
Maybe composing scores no one hears
transmutes to lung-deep love
for another musician's work.
Maybe, having tripped down icy front steps
onto bone-twisting railings, you are inspired
to ascend different heights.
It becomes less about pushing
and more about what pulls you
from some tender place,
felt as the completeness
of the body's yes.
Then, when dancing through fallen leaves
with a toddler shrieking in delight
you are entirely that dance.
When blown free from a broken job
you explore uncharted space.
When finding yourself
at the end of a poem writing itself
you see the vessel steers
past enough to anything.