To Our Mother

At some point it clicked in me possessions are irrelevant

Token exchanges of credits in banks,

I mean banks do not even have the money they lend

They lend you digits in a computer and trade on the idea of being invested

Mothers do not work like that; your blood is invested in our veins

Genome, pressure, the act of creation in mitosis with the split half cell of our father

This is not done with anything but presence

The act of love and enlivening perpetuation on some level, but selflessness

To want the happiness of the son or daughter freely without condition

I have felt your love without condition

Even in the times I know my feet are in waters beyond the depth of your travels

I see you on that shoreline and in the strength of my muscles knowledgeable of how to swim

I see the moon and sun echoing these waves differently because of you

The blood of my mouth pouring in your worries

Of what words come out and why in the quiet silences entrusted to your ears

Because I know yours is a vault beyond the lock of judgment

I have felt the release to be who I am

Which at times is gnarled and mashed, spirited and away

From a path of certitude about what love is or how it works,

But I know you love me, as my mother, unconditionally and forthright

This I have never doubted

The beauty of such a flower is a perpetual bloom

One seeded in the diligence of concern of thinking of my brothers and me

In a cache of your chest pumping and pressing

Wanting for our joys and tearing in the bastions of our sorrows

Knowing your arms are there secure

To hold us when we need asking for nothing in return,

But us to be who we are