This week, I learned the concept of a 'pen name', like a stage name. And it has me this way: I don't think I'll sign my first book, "Wrenna Bird" or "bird and the snake"... I'd go as far to say that I want to EARN a name. Who is to say from where it should arrive, though, would it be a waste to simply receive one by fleeting mood or to just, name myself? I prefer the reach of remarkability, to rise in the call of the masters. I'll carry heavy water buckets all 5,000 steps, tend fire to keep us warm, cold plunge in holes of ice. I'll hold my breath ever beyond my last attempt, meditate towards, in and through, dare these bare paws along the globe, eat wild foods that, I find. I'll ease these hands through wooden blocks and throw knives at tiny targets. I'll not use my powers for harm, but I'm ready, I'm ready. I'll wave you to peace, afterthought and upstream riding poetry such as this, teasing you through a window, my friend, with the rememberence of sacred silence, presence. I'll serve you, and so me as well. And continue for this climb to the higher peaks of human potential and purpose. Then one day, I am given a name that is mine. My beloved pen name.