Umma...

Umma...ummi...my mother,

can you conceive your burden?

A radiant belly swelling upward

toward the sky, heavy

with communion between yourself

and your Adored One

is but evidence

of what you must bear.

With each waning of the moon,

your mind consumes a little more

of the heart that sustains you;

awareness eating itself

into oblivion.

What have you borne this day?

You cradle a child with no soul

biting its own hand

as it bleeds between teeth

cut on your empty breast.

Who will be left

to mourn you when at last

your offspring turns

its sightless, greedy eyes

toward your hollow flesh

and with yawning jaws

strips you of all that is sacred?

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Umma...ummi...my mother,

remember

your golden sons and daughters

and how they bled for you.

Cast away this divided child

or will you stand by

as it digs up the graves

of those who lived and died for you

and do nothing as it gnaws on their bones?

Gather yourself with arms

of love and understanding,

hold tight to the promise;

the light your Adored One

first beheld in you.

Call softly to your children

with the voice of compassion

in rememberance of your First Born

and they will crowd around your feet

with arms stretching toward the sky

waiting for you

to lift them up in familiar arms

and kiss away their tears

as you begin the journey home.

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--BY SUMEIA--