Picture courtesy pixabay.com
Mother, your love baked a shell around me
until I was ready to crack it
and rise from the Earth
Mother whose fire
turned my bones to tempered steel,
hardened marrow wrapped in a body
that seldom knew its worth
My mother is flame
and rain
and thunder, shaking the sky
with slow rumbles
and splitting darkness
with laughter and cries—
Sounds that carve canyons
and form rivers
and pollinate withering
jungles
Mother, who keeps me humble.
A whirling force of nature
nurturing a storm,
A mother who can make mountains
or move them
or force them to crumble.