Broken Like Lace

Monday, October 8, 2012 1:25:00 AM


Daniel Townsend

   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.


            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


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




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.