Beyoncé Wrote a Poem About Blue Ivy and God With a Pulitzer Prize Finalist

While the rest of us were merely existing on this earth at sluggish, pollution-spewing speeds, Beyoncéfound time in between her concert tour, V.M.A. award acceptance feat, and residency as the planet’s goddess in chief to create more art.

Specifically, she posed for this month’s issue of CR Fashion Book, the high-fashion magazine put out byCarine Roitfeld, former editor in chief of Vogue Paris and present-daycollaborator of North West. In the photo spread, by photographer Pierre Debusschere, Beyoncé poses with a custom-designed Chanel surfboard. She squeezes blood-red juice from a pomegranate while covered neck-to-toe in Prada. She crouches while wearing cat ears on her head(!). And she stands in little more than a trench coat and cape of ankle-length hair extensions.

And because this is Beyoncé we’re talking about, and a publication that touts itself as a “magazine of style and inspiration,” the photos aren’t accompanied by a boring old celebrity profile. But by a free-form poem comprising statements made by Beyoncé that were “remixed by” poet and Pulitzer Prize finalist Forrest Gander.

Called “Bey the Light,” the poem touches on everything from Bey’s daughter,Blue Ivy, to her own persona Sasha Fierce. And while she does reference her grandmother, and the many people from whom she gathers strength, she does not mention her husband. Here’s what the Grammy winner has to say about Blue Ivy:

“Bey the Light”
Words Beyoncé
Remixed by Forrest Gander

It’s my daughter, she’s my biggest muse.
There’s someone, we all find out soon,
more important than ourselves to lose.

I feel a deep bond with young children –
all those photos in my dressing room –
especially those who’ve been stricken,

Children I’ve met across the years –
they uplift me like pieces of moon,
and guide me, whispering in my ear

I’m turned to spirits, the emotions of others.
And I feel her presence all the time
though I never met my grandmother.

I learned at a very young age,
when I need to tap some extra strength,
to put my persona, Sasha, on stage.

Though we’re different as blue and red,
I’m not afraid to draw from her
in performance, rifts, even in bed.

I saw a TV preacher when I was scared,
at four or five, about bad dreams,
who promised he’d say a prayer

If I put my hand to the TV.
That’s the first time I remember prayer,
an electric current humming through me.

You call me a singer, but I’m called to transform,
to suck up the grief, anxiety, and loss
of those who hear me into my song’s form.

I’m a vessel for all that isn’t right,
for break-ups and lies and double-cross.
I sing into that vessel a healing light.

To let go of pain that people can’t bear.
I don’t do that myself, I call in the light.
I summon God to take me there.

Utopias, they don’t much interest me.
I always mess things up a bit.
It’s chaos, in part, that helps us see.

But for my daughter I dream a day
when no one roots for others to fail,
when we all mean what we say.