I would have never wished,
That the path that led to the betterment of my future
would be on the other side of the door,
that my mother’s absence created.
That in many ways my flower
of tomorrow would only possibly
bloom from her rich cemetery soil,
that was warmed by rain.
She could have never imagined
that in just 56 years
She would be done reciting the finely tuned script
of her being.
That she was done
blowing out every dandelion
she ever would- like
candles in a powerless house.
At bedtime.
Or that her final
lesson to her son
on the Art of Well Being
would be administered
from a Hospital induced
state of not being, yet being.
She used the blood of my birth
to rub a cross on
my forehead
cursing me,
baptizing me,
sanctifying me
with this, this, human predicament,
And I begged, prayed everyday
for it to be lifted.
Lifted,
like a child
fallen asleep at family gathering
while a grandmother
offers food to everyone
in arm’s length because it would
break her heart if anyone went to
sleep with the slightest hunger.
And it is only at this hour
that I realized,
it was not a God
I've been praying to.
It's was her,
an ineffable essence.
And you have
refused to release me
because there is no need for me
to be released.
It's Just
this person
that
spent his childhood,
without being child,
Swinging in the
concrete gallows
counting the many shades of Grey.
Now awakens to
adulthood where there is nothing
but.
And that still baffles
This young man,
that you managed to raise with both hands,
water and stone,
both hands,
wind and leaf,
both hands,
blood and skin,
both hands,
love & love.