Fiery mother

This is obviously in honour of Brigid and all mothers.

 

The lake is a picture, Screen Shot 2019-02-01 at 21.45.51

one of my mother’s,

like gardens full of roses.

She would sit in the shadows

of diamond light,

singing her life to the sky.

Come rain, shine, or stormy days,

when the moon runs purple

and the sea is drunk with sun,

she still plays the music of mist and moon.

 

I ask the fiery woman,Screen Shot 2019-02-02 at 12.20.49

what is this odour of decay

when all is greening?

Never has morning broken

so slow to warm with colour,

the night sky linger hard as ice.

Listen and remember, she says,

the song of the universe is vaster

than anything menΒ  or gods can make.

 

The dark star smiles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

19 thoughts on “Fiery mother”

  1. Oh, beautiful. The Oracle is so wise: “the song of the universe is vaster
    than anything men or gods can make.”

    I didn’t think ours were that similar at first–but they are both about remembering–and shadows, mists, and moon. πŸ™‚ Mine was filtered down to two people.

    1. The first poem, I thought was about my mother but by the end of the message, it seemed to have broadened out from the particular to a mother figure. The second one is definitely a Brigid influence. You’re right, she is wise. I wish more ‘men’ would listen.

    1. They are aren’t they? I could feel myself searching for the right words in the second one, without really knowing what I was looking for. The Oracle is getting more demanding.

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