pieta

at first i wondered why

this feeling so familiar

this blow to my gut

these tears upon the bed

 

how could I forget

that love has fists

or that when need surmounts

it takes without request

 

yet even closer still this feel

to infants

stolen from my womb

before their time

 

hope returned to earth

watered by despair

recycled time and time again

 

to be abducted

somewhere down the hall

nurtured by machines

more adequate than me

while my breasts leak with their desire

 

oh mary, mother of god

 

how is it that the dream is stolen

an infant in one moment

suckling at your breast

suffering this torturous death the next

 

help me

for i yearn to look away

from this twisted face of love

that cleaves

 

yet i know i can’t

i must remain to gather pain into my arms

and attend to this body

that i love

    

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

M.C. Reardon

photographer~painter~poet

Emmaatlast's Weblog

a place to be

First Sip

a place to be

Abbey of the Arts

Transformative Living through Contemplative & Expressive Arts

The Kitchen Door

a place to be

Canoeguy's Blog

For those interested in restoring wood-canvas canoes

a place to be

The Dragonfly Woman

Aquatic entomologist with a blogging habit

Nature's Place

The place of Nature in the 'ordinary' Spiritual Life through Meditation using Macro Photography to illustrate.

Small Things With Love

Finding meaning in the everyday

Adventure Bound

The only things you will regret are the risks you don't take

Katrina Kenison

celebrating the gift of an ordinary day

UnTangled

tell a redemptive story with your life. now.

%d bloggers like this: