Picture courtesy pixabay.com

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



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.