Today, you hear me. I speak to you from the earth; you listen from the sky. We come together in a simple kiss - a dry consummation of many rains - running, running, river-making, creek-bed-upraking, mother-slaking.
And where is your mother? --Standing as the hills? Holding forth as she straddles two mountains, licking her lips from the pain? Is your mother embedded in the stomach of a heart with a mind for feasting?
--Something like that, yes.
And, you are your mother's mountains - mimicking mounds with your fingertips, emptying skies with a single inhalation, surrounding lakes with the arms you've borrowed, the arms you've made, and the arms you propagate in waves.
And where is your mother? --Standing as the hills? Holding forth as she straddles two mountains, licking her lips from the pain? Is your mother embedded in the stomach of a heart with a mind for feasting?
--Something like that, yes.
And, you are your mother's mountains - mimicking mounds with your fingertips, emptying skies with a single inhalation, surrounding lakes with the arms you've borrowed, the arms you've made, and the arms you propagate in waves.
