the mother

as an icon
we will carry her
we, along with others
to all the dreams of places
revealing her to the sun
she, who
in each world
changes age and changes ages
in each world, becomes a different mother
youngest shall she be
at my darkest river
where tip toe will she cross our violent plains
where every terror will from her gesture, flee
where every creature, seeking, shall find her signs of warmth
oldest shall she be
in the house of my death
a crone to our elders, the bearer of martyrs
holding the prism at the end of all lights
there in her palms, etched with eons
there to catch the falling of stars
we will carry this mother
to all of our suns
they who shall see her
the life forms of her womb
#dailywriting2016 #irvingpaulpereira #dailywriting

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