Poetry: Why I Don't Claim a Totem Animal

I do post original poems here on occasion. I wrote this one as part of a poetry challenge in 2007, where I did 30 poems in 30 days. I hang out on a thread in the Etsy forums that is inspired by the Native American culture (they very kindly welcomed me in, even though I am very white), and it reminded me of this one. So campfire folks, this is for you:

Why I don't claim a totem animal

I've always been fascinated
by spirit dreams
and totem animals.
Wouldn't it be incredible
to have an animal guide of your own?
A fox or a raven,
or maybe a loon
with its haunting cry
and knowledge of the watery ways.
I've never picked one though.
I think maybe the guide chooses you
when you are ready.
Still, I tried one evening,
when we were camping on the lake
during our summer Canadian pilgrimage.

Everyone had gone to bed,
and I was standing alone
in the darkened cabin,
staring out of the screen door,
taking a deep chill breath
of living midnight air.
A single light illuminated
the weathered stairway
that led down to the dock
and the softly tapping waves.
I could almost touch
the magic, thick with promise,
drifting through the dark.
Maybe...maybe now. Yes.

I closed my eyes,
stilled my thoughts...
and sent a call winging
into the listening night,
asking for my guide to be revealed.
Calm. Center.
Extend the senses.
My very skin tingled.
A moment passed.
Another.
And...yes. I felt
a sort of...*presence*.
I opened my eyes...
and right in front of me
clinging to the screen...
was a whole freaking flock of mosquitoes.

I swear I heard someone
giggle at me.

-Melissa McCollum
11/19/07