booksartyoume

'She laughs some days' timothy r gates, 4/22/2008

out of the deluge
darkness gave way to light
she sang into the morning
evening's sleepy eyes wiped away the dust
clay's baked,
brown, hues open for the painter
us and them, El-ohim
she'll share her time, now
once the stroll was theirs
they invite us to walk
it's cool, the breeze sweeps around our ankles
up and around our necks
caresses fingers over our faces,
saying goodbye through our locks.
lips move to eat
to drink
to kiss
no need to speak
the quiet of the day says it all
'every green herb, every plant,
these are given you for your meat,'
all knew the 'very good,' Logos whispered.
Sophia wept
Lilith struck out on her own
Isha becomes Eve,
but one son murders the other son,
he runs away to the others,
family tree not spoken of before,
like Judas,
a bad rap forever it seems,
but these gave us music.
Earth, she sings her song
grieves for her children
'from the dust you came,
to the dust you'll return,'
she intones
Mother, she doesn't forget
the Garden's morning quick step
the dew, heavy like rain
the days before weeds,
before the Logos needed recorded,
when the universe's expanse was sufficient to be in awe.
she still sings,
but on some days
our Mother laughs.
with every green herb, every plant, everything and everyone.
me too.