This poem arose out of leafing through Rick Riordan's The Throne of Fire and running across the phrase "it is the power of secret names" ...  I have yet to read the book but I probably should if I got a poem out of just flipping the pages :p   Please note that I doubt the poem has anything to do with the content of said book but cannot be definitive about this until I get around to reading it.

Secret Names

It is the power of secret names to summon

from the deepness of sleep, the depths of sorrow

a silent sound on the wind that echoes

through inner spaces.

It is the power of secret names to summon

from the moments of passion, the mysteries of power

a hand on the shoulder that beckons

through the shadows.

 

It is the power of secret names to summon

from the wildness of life unbound, the wonders of love

a fire on the mountain that lights the way

when hope is lost.

 

It is the power of secret names to summon.

 

     I am ...

 

           You are ...

 

                We become ...

 

Name me. I am contained: Woman

Name him. He is defined: Man

Name us and we become: Stillborn. Friends.

It is the power of secret names to summon:

 

I choose a different name.

 

Fiona Mackintosh (© 2011, 2018) 

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