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When the Bough
Breaks
(Oil on canvas, 36" x 48")
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When the Bough Breaks
(Excerpt) III.
It is so
scary to be born, to open your eyes
for the first time on a world you don’t know
and can’t imagine. But I have had dreams,
it has all been dreams so far. My mother is
the dawn, my father is the light that shines
behind great puffy clouds in summer skies,
clouds as noble as great peaks of snow.
The sky’s blue is the gaze of heaven,
the expanse of my mother’s robes. Her
eyes are stars, her hair is moonlight,
her glance upon me is wisdom and love,
her touch the breeze of kindness.
Lodged on her lap I rest in fields
of gentian and dewdrops and poppies,
the air scented with all things good –
pine, lavender, sage, fresh-cut hay.
Chickadees feed from my hand. Deer
of the forest lie docile at our side. I am
expectancy, and newness, and hope. |
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