mothertongue

baby canada geese! gooselings! hawrelak park, june 2009

Poem I also meant to post a while ago. Written for my mother, but I haven't given it to her, because I am a silly goose.

mothertongue

i)

when i was just a whisper,
embryonic utterance
on the tip of the tongue,

she read to me. stories
all night in her sleeplessness,
sunday mornings spent in song.

she called out to me
& so i grew, morpheme
by morpheme, words

spoken & sung, vitamins
to nourish the spark of a
cell, a neuron, an eyelash, a lung

that would one day force the air
out through my small shocked larynx
& i would cry out, born –

all that water rushes through
the space between us, snipping
of a taproot, blood becoming my own.

ii)

& we are separate, so we speak:

a mother long long before us
gathered berries. cradled
her clinging baby, placed her

in the whispering grasses, first
hummed to calm her, sang to link them,
stop her crying:

the very first syllables signs
of comfort, soft fur of the belly, low thrum
of blood in the neck, messy kiss.

& words became the inchoate strings,
chords echoing umbilical &
made us language, let us love

that distance between us –
whispering aspen with its
round rippling tongues, buds

alight in us, axons blossom.
these words grow
us bundles of connective tissue,
regenerate heart to bones to sinew --

there will be words for when i
cannot hold you, to
connect and make anew:

iii)

mama, i may never make
another body
out of my body

but i can make words
my descendants,
they are nesting nascent

inside of me
waiting to unfurl
their green candles,

a cadenza
of voiceprints
reverberating

like gravel footfalls
on a path by that river,
their long arms

reaching like willow
branches, scattering
their morphemes

in stanzas like
swift-blossoming seeds --
mama, these poems

i made for you,
your words are their
ancestors:

they are your
grandchildren, &
they love you well.