First Words

I opened my mouth for the first time

and spoke with my mother’s voice,

the voice of Erato the Muse,

words like golden raindrops

sparkling with the diamond tears

of my father left alone in the night.

They were words of life and death

that carried the sweet sounds of angels

and the blues guitars of hell,

the rattle of a train escaping into the night,

the beat of drums

as naked bodies dance around a bonfire,

the quiet hum of crickets,

the howl of a wolf

gazing at the moon.