Original Poetry: Mother of Life.
© 2003 by Adrian Gaetano.
she gave her blood, DNA and inner breath.
I knitted together in her womb.
she birthed me –
literally a labour of love.
my parents shared their lives,
their world,
their Universe.
Through the eyes of a child,
I saw –
I wondered –
I rejoiced!
I learnt of my Other Mother.
Her artistry in the veins of a leaf –
in the swirls of my palm prints –
in Her tapestry of stars overhead.
The very cosmos Her womb.
My spirit soared with the birds
as they danced and swam in the air,
echoing Her gentle, subtle songs,
the Music of the Spheres.
my parents taught me,
shared with me –
their flesh, their experiences,
their every triumph and tragedy
echoed in my life and soul.
they stamped me with their faces,
their eyes, thoughts and blood.
Within, their imprint more profound:
shared hopes and dreams.
That my world
and my people
might be better than theirs.
I learnt of the other children of my Other Mother.
Encased in their playground,
Angry, deadly games.
My Mother beckoned gently,
Her whisper the soft touch of the night breeze,
Her dreams whispered in the starlight:
That my future might be better,
That somehow we might all be better.
my parents gave me their world
and dared me to build my own.
"When you grow up,
you will marry someone.
And we will be happy
whether she is Christian or Jewish,
Hindu or Buddhist,
Muslim or Zoroastrian,
agnostic or atheist,
black or white or Asian or whatever."
their unspoken words –
- or whether she is a he –
remained unthought,
unspoken,
unheard,
undreamt.
And my Cosmic Mother looked down from above,
Her laugh the awesome crash of comets,
Her astonishment the bloom of supernovae,
Her tenderness the gentle nurture of planetary life.
Her promise written across the rainbows of galaxies:
Loves greater than our mindset,
A future better than our past,
Visions broader than our dreams,
Opportunities beyond our imagining.
Our future might be better,
We might all be better.