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“Invocation” by Jeanne Lohmann

Let us try what it is to be true to gravity, to grace, to the given, faithful to our own voices, to lines making the map of our furrowed tongue.

Turned toward the root of a single word, refusing solemnity and slogans, let us honor what hides and does not come easy to speech.

The pebbles we hold in our mouths help us to practice song, and we sing to the sea.

May the things of this world be preserved to us, their beautiful secret vocabularies.

We are dreaming it over and new, the language of our tribe, music we hear we can only acknowledge.

May the naming powers be granted. Our words are feathers that fly on our breath. Let them go in a holy direction.

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