Poetry – Mother

Mother

Greens and Blues

And swirling white,

Ocean depths

Jagged heights,

Washed with heat

Bathed in light.

Spheres, spinning

Spiralling,

Worlds, evolving

Singing.

Within the

Green waters

Grew

Our sons and daughters.

Out and up

That tempting shore

Ancestors

With tooth and claw.

And we are here

To gaze in awe

At stars and space

The things of yore.

On spinning globes

In the greens and blues

We don our costumes

Of many hues,

Stare at that endless sky

And question why.

Opher – 18.11.2020

The story of life – played out all around us on the delicate crust of a tiny rock.

Nurtured by a star, travelling through space, fragile and vulnerable. We are life.

Evolved sufficiently to contemplate our own incredible existence, the wonder of an infinite universe and our own fates.

Poetry – Mother

I woke this morning with this poem in my head.

Mother

 

Slowly, circuitously she approached.

Her eyes fixed on him.

Not wanting to arrive.

Reaching his side she squatted and poked him with her finger.

He did not stir.

She picked him up and shook him

As if trying to wake him from a dream.

His head lolled.

It was no dream.

Already his body was cooling;

Giving its heat to the warm air.

A low moan escaped her lips.

She sat back on her haunches

Cradling him to her breast,

Into her fur,

As if the warm of her body

Might revitalise him.

Her vacant eyes stared.

She began to rock back and forth

Like a metronome.

Two hours passed.

She was still rocking.

 

Opher 6.9.2020