I Heard a Whisper All My Life
By Midori Gleason
“Ragnarok” was inspired by Norse mythology about wolves swallowing the the sun and moon at the end of the world. Midori’s partner Avi Lettvin, a graduate of Mass Art’s Illustration Department, created the underpainting and texture for the painting. Materials for this collaborative painting include torn books, crackle paste, acrylic paint, pencil, ink and glitter. It illustrates Midori’s poem, “I Heard a Whisper All My Life.”
Brother Moon, where are you? I cried.
But all I saw were blackened ash remains
floating in oblong shapes. My eyes, bleached white.
Peel my curling skin, I feel no pain.
Horses, run! I cannot see ahead.
I know them by their spittle which flies back,
strung from dry lips, poor skeletons of dread.
The wolves will always lunge when they attack,
hot breath exhaled closer and closer behind.
A phantom song wafts by and I drop the reins.
I do not know it’s name or yours or mine,
yet the sound assures: what’s lost, I’ll gain.
Within their jowls I will not be alone,
and in their bowels we will again be home.
I dream their glowing eyes, always awake,
and lash the whip to fall into the dark.
Sister sun, my limbs no longer ache.
My bones are stones. My teeth are broken shards.
I hear your cry. You don’t hear mine. One sound
and I’d be found. They’d swallow the lights, the night’s
sharp stars, tall boys and cities, all devoured.
I see the aspirations of my sighs,
and hear two clip-clop ghosts lead me forth
into shadows, like layers around a larvae,
while I cloak you, my silent bastion hearth.
I breathe your warmth but stop, quick: Where are they?
I’ve lost the lead, I don’t know where they’ve gone.
I drop my speed, breathe. Where do I run?
