April: First Movement Poem by Elizabeth Spires

Intelligence moves me, I am
moved by first movement

as a soul is moved
to enter body, as a star,

possessed of mind, burns
passionless for many lifetimes,

as a tree does meditate
continually, branches

driven upward unceasingly
by first movement,

leaves driven to sing
with fluent urgency

of water, wind, and light,
as I mediate my end

and my beginning,
made, like a thought,

out of nothing, no thing
like me, my cause,

my first responsibility,
to see, emotion

driven inward to the source,
flinging me backward

on myself in ignorance:
Cause of the World.