"She was a maker of bounty biggest"
Is what mom showed me
Of women...
From smile her chisel of self
Carved love
From a word of love
Showed she me the making
Of families and lineages...
Of images of love
Beauty and goddesses,
Of womanliness of feminity
She showed me the garden
Of eternal flowers...
She grew me up to respect and admire
The very existence of women folk...
Today on my own
I see the burnt carcasses.
What knowledge tears apart my mind
Chunks my heart
And squeezes my breath
Is learning this burnt matter
But is the tender tender body of tenderness...
What will it take of journey back
To the painting my mother once carved
For me
For just me;
A painting many a mothers
Failed miserably at manifesting their skills...
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