taking attendance

When does a name,

your name perhaps,
feel safe?

Seem
secured?

I have heard you
introduce yourself
ten thousand times

and often
wonder
'What was different
this gathering?'

‘Did that sound
like the last
time?’

A shortening, 
an included pronoun, 
a removed middle name?

A lilt,
a pause,
a greeting,
a warning.

The same
but
not
the same.

You,
then another
you.

An inhale
before
the exhale
or vice versa?

Or is it
just me?

I imagine
your name
in other places, 
cathedrals and
boardrooms and
pillows.

When it’s sound
is willingly bent
or accidentally bruised,

two consonants conflict,
global is made anglo,

does it relate
still?

When you meet
new people
do you ever meet
a new you?

Is that richness?

Risk?

At birth
a name can appear
from ash
or reveal from
inspiration,

tradition can 
provide mortar
for future
interpretation, 

people may say
that’s a strong name,
that’s a pretty name,
that’s the name of so and so-

when you say it

does it
reach into
clear calm water, 

deep into
ancestral silt?

Does it pan
for that gold?

Does it surprise
and awe 
as an explosion
of birds
spiraling skyward?

Does it
make you 
fearful of the 
inevitable behind
the next bush?

Does it ring in
a tone that gives
you a sense of home?

Of daring?

Defeat?

How have you
taken residence
in your name?