“all mother” (A Poem)
should not shock me that I am
become my mother I mean
I touch my belly button & there
I am hers forever her forever.
they say you half your father
half man made
how?
her stretched skin tells five stories
her weight our birthfact.
a worthy wait months
of divine interior
my foot my finger
graced by her inside
same as the others
we belong to her who half
man am I?
I counted her sleeping breaths
knew her voice as good as her dark
wept first in the world because
the nurse wanted of me what
mom already knew life
health a beginning
& the world was unwarm.
I knew my shallowbreathed bodyhome
could never confess me
to this cold I knew
her warm would never
//
now when I place my head
against my mother’s belly
a tender tug & my father’s joke
‘trying to go back?’
maybe.
maybe the light always hurts.
this hurt always leak
leak pool in my center
center tug me to dark
back to her.
half man?
has man ever touched well?
do they know of good dark?
it goes like this then:
she seeded her love 5 times
ceased oneness opened
existed us.
*Author’s Note: I am baffled by birth. What it means to be created, that initial emergence. And then, I look at my mother—this woman of small glory, infinite love, a high-pitched voice, and drums—and it makes sense. It makes sense that life (mine and my four siblings) is of and from her. It makes most sense that life is of and from only her.
Copyright © AAIHS. May not be reprinted without permission.
How absolutely beautiful! Thank you, Precious Musa and Black Perspectives for bringing us poetry today. This made me think of Claire Harris’s prose/poetry book Drawing Down A Daughter — from a mother’s perspective speaking to her yet unborn daughter.
Marvelous work. Thank you so much.
Awesome, I felt my mother next to me.
Precious!! This gave me cascading chills. So beautiful. Thank you. <3