Portrait of a mother in America

You are an unstoppable maverick
you have authorship to the fossils we shall be
You are restless as you lie awake
your forgiveness is now a lung emptied of death
You are monastic as you listen to the bells ring
your joy transient in yet another uncounted night
You are a widow wailing at the steps of a lake
a practiced palanquin bearer of skinned surrender
You are unflailing and rise above freedom
you claim perspective for those who are still captive
You are pole star and mercury
shifting the epicenter of your axis for those you birth
You are a witch with long arms
they embrace bodies showered from dilating skies
You are songwriter, fact narrator
watchwords are written in your inherited ink
You are chameleon, your smile is irreverent
it hides an incoherent truth underneath your teeth
You are your own church…