Morningstar
Susan Butler
Because you said so,
I changed my name
to iron, plate, scrub, dig, deliver, shame.
At first I became a dead bird, hollow-boned and lighter
and lighter with time,
then, dried petals, barely visible, a
mote of dust, and then, then
an ember.
Flagrant, irreverent
particles of me began to flake, to rise skyward, phosphoresce;
irrelevant fragments fell
back to earth.
I am coming for everything
you denied me.
I rise above the clouds, above the mountains, above the rain,
daughter of the morning,
my particles becoming waves, bearing terrible
blinding light.
I am the brightest of the stars.
If you see me now, you will see the depth
your darkness buried you.
If you see me now, you will see no more.
Yet I’m still learning to forget
that you said it was I who was the adversary.
My name is now
birdsong, summer sunrise, morning star, blue sky
because I say so.