"roots"

call it our craziness even,
call it anything.
it is the life thing in us
that will not let us die.
even in death’s hand
we fold the fingers up
and call them greens
and grow on them,
we hum them and make music.
call it our wildness then,
we are lost from the field
of flowers, we become
a field of flowers.
call it our craziness
our wildness

call it our roots,
it is the light in us
it is the light of us
it is the light,
call it
whatever you have to,
call it anything.


Lucille Clifton

good woman: poems and a memoir 1969-1980
Brockport, New York: BOA Editions, 1987. 120