Yoke and bow

A golden yoke and an emerald bow:

the task is to transform the yoke into the bow.

To exchange:

burden for potential

load for spring

wealth for agility

steady certainty for precarious responsiveness.

Weighty gold gleams strung over shoulders,

certain as the orbit of the sun,

sure as the gears of the galaxy.

The double arch crushes shoulders,

blistering with incandescence.

Curves circle neck, reaching round

as if an aspiring slave necklace.

Ah! now we are yoked and worked

for the glisten of gold.

Only from a heart pulsing with love

can an emerald be grown.

Can we love enough

to make the emerald bow?

Perhaps the bow, being born of love

is to be fed green emeralds

from the hearts of thousands,

from the wishes and dreams

of the pebble to the elephant,

of the nightingale to the river delta,

of the child to the canopy.

Perhaps all of their love

will fashion the emerald bow.