Mother, We Are Sorry

Born of our arrogant indignation

We wake from the ashes

A first breath, cold with remorse

In the afterbirth, we search

For one last drop of forgiveness

Step, into your divine wilderness

A release, between forest greens

An ever-flowing river of ease

Through the vast expanse

Of untrammeled remains

Till this day we overcome

Bear witness to the slaughter

Of daybreak, dripping with contempt

For the countless masses left behind

As they weep with the knowledge

And the vision, of death’s dance

It’s touch, as you reclaim

That which rightfully is yours


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70 comments

  1. First, thank you for following my blog.
    This is a powerful poem River – I am happy to have discovered your writing through Michael. I enjoyed reading your “About” bio and your wife’s comment made me smile … hey, when you have a story or a poem in your head, it is a distraction and you simply must get it flowing from brain to fingertips before you lose that thought!

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Mothers always forgive, if we repent (which literally means, so I’m told, to “walk in the opposite direction”). It’s not too late, but we have to about-face together. I hope we can. This poem is really lovely, River. I love our Mother so much, and yet, I know I can personally do better for Her. ♥.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. You are so very welcome. I a. Happy that I found you as well. I think it was through reading danimata’s blog

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  3. I came back to this poem today, River, while building Cord X’s page on under1000skies. On 5.22 I link back to this since it goes with the quote. And as I read it, I got chills head to toe. Have you thought about this since, in the wake of what is possibly an answer from herself? A warning shot, but so loud and echoing we are still reeling. They say there is great hope and an end in sight for this pandemic. But I can’t help thinking of how well our Mother has flourished without us. ♥.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Honestly, I don’t know what to think about anything. One thing though, maybe we over-inflate our importance/role in all this. A reflection of our ego and pride. I would guess that in the long run, our mother is going to be just fine. Us? Who knows.

      Liked by 1 person

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