Claudette J. Young
Claudette J. Young began writing seriously in 2008 and continues to write in multiple genres. She strives to learn something new each day—a new poetry form, new writing technique, new foreign word, or whatever strikes her fancy. Her primary genres are poetry, science fiction/fantasy, flash fiction, children’s literature, women’s fiction, along with creative non-fiction, essay, and memoir. She tries to cover all of her bases by writing for audiences that range from young children to senior citizens.
Claudette has been published in numerous online publications for poetry, fiction, and non-fiction, as well as print magazine issues and two international poetry anthologies. She continues to hone her craft by working on multiple projects, including book-length ones. Her regular work can be viewed on her collaborative website and blogs at: 2voices1song.com/ .
Moonless sky, polka-dotted,
One wooden flute’s notes glide,
Through darkness, capturing
The unwary spirit for a soul-ride.
The sound speaks of times past
When animals spoke as men
And trees had souls that sang.
Staccato rhythms carry the music
And lure spirits on airless paths
As mounted horse does the rider.
Only night and the flute exist now,
Soaring high to worlds long gone,
Where time moved with a river’s pace,
Weaving gorges through ancient landscapes,
Never planned or envisioned, yet painting
Maps for only those of the air to see.
Joy within life comes with lighter notes,
Seeking expression within the song,
Giving of itself what listeners take
Away within hearts touched by sound.
Soon drums add their voices to the song,
Punctuating song's tune with bass notes.
Night jars squawk when song pauses,
As if to protest the lack of sweetness
Provided by wood and stretched drumhead.
Owl adds its own bass notes to the mix,
Warning small world travelers of its flight;
Mouse quivers underground, fearful, hungry,
While Rabbit waits timid, unsure of dark’s safety.
Flute laughs at the uncertainty of life,
Knowing all things reveal themselves in time,
Being what they are, when Life proclaims them.
Earth spins to its song, voicing its presence
Through flute and drum, the spirit and body
Of all creation comes forth to know Life’s dance.
© Claudette J. Young