MOTHER, by Thomas Martin Saturday



born to her,
outpouring of her womb
a mere child,
not knowing
just being,
sensing safety
at rest
shielded in enfolding ozone arms
oxygenated blood pulsing like rivers
giving us breath
expression of perfect love
offered freely
Creation so lavish
it covers her in a blanket of life
she knows is her own
the round shape of time,
plankton seeking light
rich soils dark and deep
all in her care
never resting
love the one constant
for the great burst,
green fields opening
her growing brood
over the whole of it,
swirling in white billows
seas swim for her,
birds offer their song,
billions of beings blossoming
in her care
holding, holding
protecting what is hers,
her loving touch
known in that deepest place
where we are
she smiles
a kiss so we know
we are all her children.

–Mother’s Day
Copyright Thomas Martin Sobottke 2014

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