This is one of mine, written last year, hopefully worth repeating as they are on my mind today.
Make it Better
When I think of God as mother She has the darkest skin
Black coffee, licorice, bittersweet chocolate
The skin of Eula who carried me, who rocked and changed me,
Of Catherine who stood me on a stool where I mixed boxes of Jiffy Cake
In a bowl, flour everywhere, messes wiped up magically:
Her broad nose, the Great Mother, Her strong arms and capable hands
Kindly guiding when we go astray, Her deep voice raised not in anger
But in a song that calls us home, where a kiss will make it better.
(With Eula at Virginia Beach, Sept. 5, 1961)
So sweet…
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I like it. It reminds me of Aunt Carrie and especially of Mazallene.
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Wonderful!
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Lovely! Thanks!
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Oh, I LOVE this photo. Mom always used to talk about Virginia Beach, and this just really brings it home. The poem is great as well: write more! write more!
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This means a lot to me and I am glad I stumbled across your blog. My relationship with my own mother was light and dark, so seeing God in the feminine sense has always been difficult for me, and this helps such a lot. Thank you.
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Thanks, Diane. My current job has not been particularly fruitful for writing poetry or prose, mostly because I’m in a program-oriented position and not preaching regularly. I’m out of my rhythm! But I hope that will shift when I move on in a few months.
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this is a gorgeous poem…and it means so much to me. thank you.
oh, and, you could not have been a CUTER baby…oh my! I can’t believe your parents and caregivers didn’t just eat you up–but then again, I bet they did!!!
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