singing of a stormy Mother

(inspired by Funkadelic’s Maggot Brain, 1971)

 

Mother Earth bears the dust

on which Thou, O God, dost

breathe to make us,

and She our grounding

on which we, the prayer saying,

“live and move and have our being”,

and o’er which ruach’s fury doth threaten to break us.

 

For our Mother we pray

alway

in gratitude for life

to Her, at times bereft,

in fear of death.

 

May we, can we, too, wonder

whether

we had (have?) any part

in weather’s

power?

 

If we dare consider

any thought of our share

in Her change

in tempest’s temper

might we deem it wise to suffer

our change?

ode to a dreamer/believer

(dedicated to the one i love)

 

beholding the sky, its cerulean limitlessness,

sky, blue

with a memory miraculous

of something not yet,

but

 

embraced,

embodied,

 

in her bones, she knew she was meant to take flight,

to alight

 

on air…

 

though wingless,

for the longest

time she stretched, flutterless,

 

stubbornly earthbound,

her talons sharp and embedded,

inextricably wedded

to the ground,

 

nevertheless,

 

she dreamed

and deemed

 

her home, space;

land, an interim place.

 

one day, as she alway knew,

 

she sprouted those necessary things,

wings

 

(was it but a dream, a mocking fantasy

or her new,

true

corporeality?

never questioning,

ever believing)

bird in flight

and flew.