NASA Image of the Day

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Mother .....and her day.

What if I am a rib? I would have you think of me as more than mere cage.
Even if I am only one, then - and only, now, understood, of this tree and rock and shale and sky, schooled - I nurture, still;
Tending to my wounds, scar upon scar, star upon star, standing sentinel,
The milk of my tears is mixed with blood and carbon, trying, trying, trying.....
Mixed and mean, unexpectedly kind, swift and salient......vessel, and vassal, and voice.
I am blamed, blameless, and burdened, and bear it, fiercely.
I am the dignity of all tried and true.
I see the smaller selves, ardent and searching, bird mouths, eyes closed, and flying;
Homing and corded, invisible threads of my heart, riding upon air and thought and hopes.
I remember the moments of their forming; the breathed and breathed into; the sigh, and the met, rounded;
I feel again, water's rhythm, forming, and joining, swimming into themselves, and each other, beautifully;
Endless dance of completed,
Exquisite pain, forgotten;
Replete and joyous, in the
I am now, and ago, and, though bereft of more of me, in these cyclical days of ending and passing through,
Dreaming, still,
of my

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