MOTHER’S LIGHT GUIDES ME TO HER
Barbara Leonhard
I.
To her wound. I descend
into her balefire. Birth scraps
a scar on my neck.
I cleave to her, suckle loss.
As soon as I am born,
I start saying goodbye.
Nothing lasts. Except scars.
Love makes me her namesake,
her likeness in miniature,
her wound’s creation. My parents’
elixir. They raise their grail.
II.
When a baby’s born,
all mothers sigh in unison,
a butterfly effect,
rippling into all mothers’ souls
then to the planets and stars,
searching for names.
My grandmothers and great grandmothers
were generous with births.
Most had 6 or 7.
There were tragedies.
The two baby sisters Mom lost,
creating a hole in Grandmother Lilian’s soul
that mother could not fill.
The wound of the mother
becomes the wound of the daughter.
My mother felt abandoned
by her mother, just as her mother
felt abandoned by her baby daughters.
III.
Grief is a shared malady.
It drains the pond.
No amount of tears
can repair the hemorrhage.
Healing is not always glorious.
Though light guides and softens pain,
it can singe as a wildfire.
Creation of life and love
is as chaotic as star birth.
Barbara Leonhard from USA is the author of the best-selling 'Three-Penny Memories: A Poetic Memoir' (EIF, 2022) and co-author with Nolcha Fox of 'Too Much Fun To Be Legal' (Garden of Neuro, 2024). Both books are available on Amazon. Barbara has received nominations for The Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. She is the Editor of Masticadores USA.
Comments