When you were the little boy
in the white dress scattered with lilacs,
which was no different than
your pirate costume with the fake mustache,
You pretended to faint when the young man
from your favorite story appeared at
the height of our field with the brilliance
of the sun at his back and Amaterasu at his side.
With the ancient spirit’s blessing, he took your hand
so that you rose to your feet with a smile,
and it was then that your father became my father
and the part of myself I knew I had to put away,
Yet which I had never truly been
though never understanding why,
only now knowing this aspect had to die,
for it served no purpose anymore, not to you or I.
The old letters and leaves
of my words slipped from my grasp,
scattering upon the narrow but deep meadow stream
with my lamenting sigh.
“It is as it was meant to be”
my mother said softly to me
in mild rebuke, and noting my surprise,
“I am always nearby.”
This person who had never changed
from time’s beginning and who would
continue to bear and nurture far more
children of the Earth than I.
As they melted into the water
my words upon the paper
became part of the circle again,
and she who had only ever seen a child
looked at us with new pride.
2 thoughts on “Poem: Her Children”
Beautiful and compelling Red, it’s one of my favorites.
Thanks Ana :-)
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