the sun above me /
the earth below me /
the sea before me, behind me, within me /
I am each of them, all of them /
that is why they are my mothers //
earthmother is easiest to love /
she is the closest /
and the steadiest //
starmother easiest to revere /
she is blinding /
only ever above, or absent /
defining time itself //
seamother is the strangest /
at times she may be entirely forgotten /
yet when we are with her how easy to entirely forget the other two /
and even in the driest desert she is most of our living substance /
ubiquitous but hidden /
peaceful but nakedly powerful /
transparent, pure, and singular, but full of who-knows-what /
a one-voiced cacophony /
she divides the world and unites it /
she birthed life, sustains life, is life /
and she takes life back easily, often, and without hesitation /
to the earth she is daughter, sister, mother, lover, friend, and enemy /
her mirror, her sculptor, her assembler, her destroyer, and her defiler /
her disease, her cure, and her very substance /
the two by definition distinct, yet also one in the same /
she was never born but she came from somewhere /
probably from many somewheres, over eons, /
she assembled herself /
where earth is clearly sun's daughter, /
the sea would certainly seem to be a descendent /
but only indirectly /
perhaps ultimately unknowably /
so much of her seems unknowable /
(though of course all my mothers share this trait) /
she asks no questions and gives no answers /
I wonder if she means to put us in that familiar trance /
or just can't help it /
I love her and I don't know why /
I fear her like a night sky full of stars /
her infinitude attracts me, repels me, fills me, and envelopes me /
strange indeed ///
