The River of Naming

by Daniel Ausema

Names do not rise from nothing.

They flow, always, just below

our knowing, below thought,

a current of nomenclature,

surging through the rapids

of the unnamed and formless.

Net me a name, fisher of words.

Fetch one from the depths,

a swift-swimming epithet

from mountain streams above.

Unnamed tributaries carry

building blocks of meaning,

signs and signifieds bound

in proto-defined entanglements,

so the names they will form

as the river runs downward

will maintain their spooky

meaning at a distance.

Cast far across the current,

fisher of words, a flick of your line

to entice the name I need,

a wise word and ancient,

with cunning and strength.

The delta shatters names

into morphemes and alleles,

splits meaning and etymology

into spreading streams of possibility,

each flowing into the vast sea,

where salt names never return.

Fisher of words, have you missed

the names for me? Lift the cages

for one last chance, a glimpse

of words that look back,

that see with inhuman eyes.

Maybe somehow, salt names

come back merely unrecognizable,

unfit for the waves of human minds-- 

until the current forms about them again,

gives them the substance of word

and uncertain meaning, dreaming

of the names to come as they begin

to flow back down the riverbed.

Daniel Ausema's poetry has appeared in Strange Horizons, Fantasy Magazine, and Dreams & Nightmares and been nominated for the Rhysling and Elgin awards. His short stories have appeared in many publications as well. He is the author of the Arcist Chronicles trilogy and the creator of the steampunk-fantasy Spire City series. He lives in Colorado and can be found online at https://danielausema.com.