return

 when my heart

feels too big to hold

i return to the land

let my tears

water the ground

wind stroking my hair

in Mama's lap

birds calling me to

be still

be here

Gaia holds my 

anger and grief

she feels it too

all mothers do

Black holes

I saw this hauntingly beautiful piece at the Portland Art Museum today and was absolutely struck by it; the hair, the ears, the neck, the shoulders look just like my son ... and the anguish just moved me nearly to tears. It's like someone took a psychic x-ray or the human I love most in the world and this is what they saw. Heartbreaking.

So, of course, I wrote about it ...


sometimes
I see death
when I look
into my son's face

there's
an anguish that
could kill him
clawing just below the

surface
of his skin
a zombie eating
his brain from inside

sometimes
i see the
look of anguish
as he claws at

life
begging to be
freed from the
killer inside, the black

hole
in his throat
that's so big
it chokes out life

---
April PAD Day 6 - ekphrastic

Unpacking the trunk

You look at me and
see a gray body bloated with memories,
wrinkled by the worries of
a life too well remembered

You see no beauty in
the bulk of my weight, hips that
have carried our children into
this dusty, drought-weary world

little ones who gaze at
their mother through elephant-thick eyelashes and
see only the fierce matronly
love beneath the rough hide

--

Creative Bloomings prompt #166 - animal house

Thicker than blood

You say you don't know
who your family is
that you were
given away
or
taken by
those afraid your
mother was unfit to
love you like we could


---

April PAD Day 20 - family

The perfect storm

The hardest thing to learn
as a parent
is when to be the
umbrella
and when to
walk behind and let them
fall into that puddle
alone


--

April PAD Day 9 - shelter 

Baby

How do I
hold on to one who's
outgrown my embrace?

How do I
embrace letting go of the
grown man before me?

--
November PAD Day 19 - love or anti-love

Birth day

Happy 16th birthday to my Monster.


You rushed in
as you've done every day since
pushing your way
into this world with fierce determination

I wasn't there
more than two pain-filled hours
before you appeared
blue and twisted and perfect

The doctors rushed
to unwind the twisted gray cord
around your neck
and hear your first full-lunged cries

You turned pink
before our blood-shot eyes and wailed
I kissed your
forehead and was forever changed


Poetic Bloomings # 82: The most important day of my life

When he's gone

Hasn't happened yet, but it's so close I can already feel it.


WHEN HE'S GONE

When he's gone,
you'll miss the smell of
cologne he used

too much of;
the mess of his room
and the socks

on the floor.
You'll wonder if he's eating
or studying enough;

if he's using
a condom or smoking too
much cheap weed.

When he's gone,
you'll be glad he's off
exploring the world

as young men
eventually must, but wish he
would call home

once in awhile.


--

Nov PAD #9 - When he's gone