Songs of Motherhood

I.

Comes a dimming on the green leaves in spring;
They pause, mid-whisper.
Comes a child ’cross the green meadow of forest;
Animals scent the air, intent.
Comes a rain in the green morning of day;
Still, all things watch—
Child and cloud.

Bare feet, bare arms

Embrace the light of day;

Leviathans, weightless,

Caress honey-colored locks—

In a breath are light, air and infant one.

Then washed indoors,

A yet sweet-breathed bairn

Is lullayed to easy dreams of rainbows

By Nature tapping soft at window panes,

Asking Innocence to come again and play.

II.

…for daily life

to be so simple

so brave, so happy…

I have not spoken

with my son

these three days,

these five years

and my eyes, looking on him

are unkind

I let him bully me

when we were younger

and never forgave

either of us.

…that daily life

might be this simple

this happy, this gentle…

but my heart

embraces him tightly

clasps his hand

my angry, vengeful thoughts

have spent themselves

in scratching

and stinging his dear arms

like invisible briars

I will keep him from me

no more.

…daily life

is this simple

this kind, this loving…

III. 

She teaches love

Sprung full-fledged into being
                       at the conception of her child
             and newly created at every
                                     new conception

             She, the goddess
             She, the universe
             She, all-provident womb
                       and totality of her offspring’s
                                     first self-knowledge

             Her gaze, the first mirror
                       seen over the horizon
                       of the soft, round taste
                                     of need satisfied

             Creatrix and creation indistinguishable
                       The mystery of her generosity is this:
 though giving ceaselessly, she makes no sacrifice
             All she gives, she gives to herself
                       through her creations

Her progeny spin out, as droplets of water
                       from the ocean
At the moment they are realizing their separate being
             she is recognizing the unity
                       of her essence with them

                       Becoming one by becoming many
                                     pupil and matrix
                                                  she teaches love.

IV. Word

  (to my mother)

To thank you enough

I have finally found my way

           (my truth, my life).



I give you this oath

(which is your gift to me):

Although for every hour by which



I have shortened your life,

I would gladly give in trade

a day of perfectest joy,

instead, I will redeem

every minute of grief

you ever spent on me.






It is my griefs have saddened you most,

and ever having saddened you is my most grief.

I will set now all griefs aside;

I will be now as happy as you always hoped.






I have known you

longer than I have known breath

from the inside, out,

and still have barely the gist of you

(curious and humble,

grace seeking grace)

who gave substance to my idea,

knit me together

from threads of your own fabric,

then passed the needles on to me.






I give you this oath

which is now mine to keep

(your gift to me)—

and every day will now become

my mother’s day.