My Mother

You are not just a human being
Made of blood and bones,
You are a woman who the universe grows within.
You have been ripped apart and built from dust over and over again,
Your skin, toasted caramel, from the raging passion you have for everything you do.
When I look at you I cannot help but feel beastly guilt as
My mind showed me images while I rested,
Of what your life might be
Had I not clawed my way out my first home,
And let me tell you it was the happiest I had ever seen you.
I am dependent on your existence as if you were the oxygen I breathe
Each and every time I withered in despair,
You screamed to the skies and commanded showers,
You dragged the sun from hiding behind the clouds,
And you nourished me back to life when I was ready to become one with the earth again.
You are the soil of which I am rooted
I have withered and fallen,
I am rising and blossoming,
And it is in no other presence than yours,
My God does not rest within the pages of scriptures and ancient texts
My God is not as elusive as they say,
He is beating within us boundlessly
My God is the God of all Gods,
My God is my Mother.
Sunday, May 13, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: growth,love,mother daughter

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