Category: Heavenly Mother

1. Wisdom in each heartbeat pulsing through my veins
2. Mending every sorrow, comforting each pain.
3. Wisdom in each blood drop healed by Mother’s kiss,
4. Or her tear, or stroking, or her embraced bliss
5. Wisdom in each longing reaching from my chest,
6. Passing through the vastness, to her ear to rest.
7. Wisdom in each flushing—flustered, nervous, shy—
8. Hand upon my shoulder tells me she is nigh.

1. With silver arms and midnight hands, she pulled in outstretched reach
2. The lapping waves and hushed surf to bare the hidden beach.
3. Deep from the sand, she formed a star and raised it to her breast
4. And nursed it dear and tenderly, just as she had the rest.
5. She helped it grow under her touch, with wisdom she did guide.
6. Each stage of growth, each mature phase, filled her with love inside.
7. The time had come—it always has—for her to say goodbye.
8. Reluctantly, she held her babe, then perched it in the sky.

Listen

1. When I look upon her face, I see divinity.
2. When I am alone with her, I feel affinity.
3. Silver beams caress my face, and blue rays soothen me.
4. As she passes sleeping earth, she nods approvingly,
5. Gently guiding owl and wolf and ’possum, hare to see.
6. Strength and pow’r alone she wields to pull and bear the sea.
7. Vacillate ‘tween life and blood in lunar harmony.
8. As a mother to the stars, yet watching over me.

1. Once there was an orchard small of four trees in a row.
2. Planted by a gardener, from seedlings she did grow.
3. Nurtured, pruned, and shepherded, a sight now to behold,
4. Underneath their branches wide, four stories did unfold.
5. Fruit upon the first was dark and light and soursweet.
6. Life bestowed for years on end till children wisdom eat.
7. Blossomed mind but death inside with flame and blade depart.
8. Memories are buried deep, replaced by broken heart.
9. Second tree bore bitter fruit, a painful, bloody red.
10. Nurtured by the root of kings through weighted vine and bread.
11. Gardener in garden dark donating strength to will,
12. Straightening the woollen back, the harder coming still.
13. Third tree bare, stripped of its leaves, its shadow growing more,
14. Howling winds and lightning flash along with thunder’s roar.
15. Piercing fruit falls to the ground, causing trembling quake.
16. Friends and family, followers, and everyone forsake.
17. Honey fruit on number four was beck’ning from the page,
18. Turning keys within the locks to free the prayers from cage.
19. Once again, the gardener loomed, but this time all ablaze.
20. With a motion of her hand, she opened heaven’s rays.

1. Queen of Heaven, hear my voice.
2. Purge my ears of all this noise.
3. Hear the words rise from my mouth.
4. Grant relief to quench this drought.
5. God of Sarah, fill my soul.
6. Send your breath to patch this hole.
7. Cleanse my lips with glowing coal
8. Of the truths whitewashed I’ve told.
9. God of ’Becca, burn my eyes
10. Of the pictures stored inside,
11. Of deception and the lies,
12. Of the promised fading prize.
13. God of Rachel, ’midst this doubt,
14. Plant a seed, that it may sprout;
15. With your grove, my forehead moist,
16. Help your servant in my choice.

Listen

Shownotes

• Mother’s Milk: Poems in Search of Heavenly Mother (A Thoughtful Faith)
• Four Births

1. I walked with my first daughter midst life and knowledge grown
2. To teach her truth and wisdom and lessons never known.
3. I watched with anxious hoping as she took her first bite,
4. Then under blade aflaming, I said my last goodbye.
5. I sat there with the handmaid to calm her troubled heart,
6. Allay her casted thinking, her fears to all depart.
7. She could not see nor hear me; I reached inside her soul.
8. For soon she’d hold my baby, and we would share a role.
9. He stood in nurtured waters; I waited up above.
10. By Grace, entombed and risen, and I sent down a dove.
11. With still, small voice of whisper, I solemnly decreed:
12. This is my son beloved, in whom I am well pleased.
13. I beckoned from the pages to come into the grove
14. The singing and the buzzing, his knees to them they drove.
15. Within the fire column, I hovered as the sun.
16. “Dear Joseph—My Beloved; hear counsel from my son.”

Listen to me read this poem and explain the symbolism and imagery:

1. The cool, gentle breeze, my tousling your hair.
2. The silence of night, my calming your cares.
3. The bubbling of brooks, my chuckling laugh.
4. The falling of rain, my giving you bath.
5. The crashing of surf, my humming to rest.
6. The soft fallen snow, my dear heart expressed.
7. The mountains so grand, my strength in defense.
8. The rainbow so clear, my diverse love blend.
9. The colours of dawn, my courage so brave.
10. The swaying of boughs, my comforting wave.
11. The thunder so strong, my clap in delight.
12. The stars of black sky, my protective might.
13. The warmth of the sun, my kiss on your brow.
14. The sound of the leaves, my whispered sure vow:
15. That though you forget, my child so dear,
16. All these remind you that mother is here.

Listen to me read this poem:

1. A mother strong had birthed that day the sun, the moon, and stars.
2. She placed each one upon the sky—the night and day apart.
3. The waters from within her womb now baptized all the earth
4. With rivers, oceans, lakes, and streams, all products of that birth.
5. Another day, the mother bore all seeds of every kind,
6. Then planted them in soil enriched by water, blood entwined.
7. Each seed grew up so mighty, strong, warmed by the sun above,
8. And flowered, fruited, bounty grew, nourished by Mother’s love.
9. On the third day, from Mother dear, came fin, and wing, and paw.
10. “It is good,” our mother said, as she looked out and saw
11. The measure of creation made, each type and, too, each kind.
12. “But even ’mong my children here, there’re some I do not find.”
13. So on day four, she birthed once more, and out came those like her:
14. Her beauty, strength, persistence, brains, and meekness, courage sure.
15. Her creation now complete, she drew her children near:
16. The beasts, the fowl, the fish, the plants, the humans—her whole sphere.
17. She counselled them, “You all are one, through birth, and life, and death.
18. You take, you give, you show respect, in appetite and breath.”
19. And then she spoke specifically to those who she’d birthed last.
20. “Because you look and act like me, the torch to you I pass.
21. To you the role of gardener, to nurture and to grow,
22. To you the role of shepherd, too, each beast and bird to know.
23. To you the keeper of the sea, to keep it full of life.
24. To you protector of the sky, the source of breath and light.”
25. Concluding now her court divine, she shared a sacred truth,
26. “Your death is not the end for you; for yours’ a godly youth.
27. Just as I planted seed on earth, I planted seed in you,
28. A seed that grows with trial and curse, and wisdom, pow’r its fruit.
29. The roots that grow within your heart will reach up toward me.
30. The branches stretching out in faith, embrace eternity.
31. Divinity is in your past, your future it entwines,
32. For you, my children, each of you, is naturally divine.”

Listen to me read this poem:

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1. Where have you gone, I ask again; my memories now lost.
2. They stole you, hid you, while I slept—a ransom without cost.
3. Your photos burned, your words destroyed, your voice I can’t replay.
4. The distance grows between us now, increasing with each day.
5. I want to see and talk with you; they tell me that I can’t.
6. I long to feel warm in your arms, the comfort of your hands.
7. I cry, I call, I wish, I pray, convinced that it’s in vain.
8. It’s for your good, they justify; they cannot see the pain.
9. Let us go down to make a home wherein our children dwell.
10. A garden fresh to please the heart and wondrous fragrance smell
11. And let us make them just like us, he you and she like me.
12. Then give them choice, watch them partake; the truth shall make them free.
13. I’ll visit them when they have left, “Behold, my b’loved son.”
14. But I’ll retreat with broken heart when he gasps, “It is done.”
15. I’ll touch their hearts; speak to their souls, comfort them and guide.
16. I’ll reach past chains and gags and locks, with every ounce I’ll try.
17. I do not think you’d leave me here, abandoned and alone.
18. I’m sure your captors have you gagged upon your vaulted throne.
19. The words you once had spoke to us, they’ve long since now destroyed.
20. They make up myths to convince us, your absence a decoy.
21. They put you on a pedestal to keep you out of reach.
22. Protect your name, or so they say; your purity they bleach.
23. But you are strong and wise and brave, far from a maiden fair.
24. And heart and soul and spirit shout that I’ve a mother there.