Tag Archives: mother and child

The Slanted Bar

The cross was for a Russian Orthodox Church,

with it’s slanted bar, pointing to heaven, pointing to hell.

The exorcist wiped the sweat from her brow,

and drank the water from the families deep and cold well.

Momma held the girl, the girl who’d been possessed,

holding her to her breast, rocking her, singing in her ear.

The girl was stunned and silent, still not back to the waking world,

her eye didn’t not blink, and they didn’t even tear.

The slanted bar, one way went to heaven, the other to hell.

This mountain town was half-way between them, either way to go.

The exorcists mind still had echoes and voices of the demons,

felt the lick of the fires, that suffocating darkness we to easily know.

Momma continued to sing her hymns and lullabies,

and the girl was finally drifting, to heal among bad, frantic dreams.

The sun was coming up after the war of the night, the wind soft and cold,

and momma was crying, and her tears were silver in the waning  moonbeams.

The exorcist said a prayer over momma and the girl, blessed them with holy water,

drew ashen crosses on their foreheads, all to give a new beginning.

The day was coming around again, and night would follow, and on and on,

and will and patience and virtue break down, and with the night comes sinning.

They go inside, the exorcist, momma and the girl. Momma and girl cuddle up

on a flat and aged mattress, and the exorcist places a thin blanker over them.

The girl is finally asleep, and momma soon follows from the terror and exhaustion.

The exorcist sits on the floor, watches them. The darkness flickers, does not dim.

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Mother and Son

The jets have stopped screaming overhead.

               The lights are out. The cars are all still.

               It’s just us, mother and son, sitting by the fire.

               I tell him stories. I kiss his head. The world is over.

 

               Just a little house on a suburban street. No notice.

               Just me and my son, and I make up games and rhymes,

               And I know the song that will quiet him to sleep, to dream,

               Dream of a world perfect and whole, not like here.

 

               I smile and sing for him, keep him calm, but The Devil comes.

               So little food or water. So little time I can keep him sweet.

               Soon we’ll have to go into this dead world. What’s out there?

               Will he grow to be like them? The men who burned the world?

 

               I hold him close to me, as he sleeps, as I watch the fire.

               He is in the Eden in his mind, his guileless, innocent dreams.

               The fire kept us warm but we burned ourselves to keep it going.

               I kiss his head. Nothing good stays. And the world is waiting out there.

Sing Me A Song Mother

Sing me a song, mother,
like when I was young.
Sing me a song of love
and sorrow and longing.
That old six string is dusty
but I bet it can still pluck
the tears from my heart.
 I remember your voice, mother,
clear as a winter morning,
and gentle as angels feathers
brushing over my eyes.
I remember the way it took me
to places far away.
I would love to hear it again.
 Sing me a song, mother,
like when I was young.
Sing me a song of love
and sorrow and longing.
That old six string is dusty
but I bet it can still pluck
the tears from my heart.

Mother and Child

In her crown and finery, she was laid down.
Her infant son still cradled to her breast.
Mother and Child sent across the waters
as the tomb was closed forever from the sun.

The day, early winter, grey and rainy, dark.
The tomb sealed, Mother and Child closed away.
May they wake in warm sunlight, and eternal summer.
Mother and Child playing again in a lush green garden.

 Under the shade of ancient trees, Child to her breast.
The sun of our goddess ever bright, ever warm.
The ravage that took them from this world forgotten.
Only joy. Only play. Only love.
 In the arms of a woman in the congregation, a child cries.
She tries to shush and soothe, as tears fall on her cheeks.
A new queen chosen, new children born, another tomorrow.
The rain will soon give way to the sun, winter to summer,
 loss to love.