Of all of Danielle’s poignant pieces, I believe this is one of m favorites.
Young Woman:
Now that you are transparent
and the anger is clarifying
to reveal an open field within me
Mother:
And though I will never
wrap my arms around your
earthly body again
Young Woman:
I see somehow
we are joined
in this translucent
embrace.
Beyond your hard ass
final act here on earth
and my hardened grief,
red ravaged, black
A river of sunlight
flows.
Mother:
Beautiful soul
beautiful soul
The bitter with the sweet
the cure is in the wound.
I’ll tell you everything
I know. A tender layer razed
from my heart
the heart remains-
weakened
and in the weakness
strength.
My voice called out
people flocked
to my aide.
A use of my voice
I never knew before
a way of opening, letting
in strangers- Surreal angels
And there you
flutter in a strange land
and all my trust
stretched
& placed in the hands
of people
who speak for you.
Of what am I sure anymore?
I place one foot in front of the other
I tend to patients, parents
My other children try my patience & I theirs
I see them at the end
of my tunnel vision
entranced by you.
My husband, your father, quiet
in the light
around that tunnel.
I feel like Dorothy
in The Wizard Of Oz
shifting between 2 realities.
Which is realer,
which more demanding of my time?
I sit here on New Year’s Eve
nodding, eating, saying the words
and my mind buzzes
in the reality you inhabit.
My son, my dead son,
my not dead son
still missing in the arc
of his siblings
It is not that I would trade
anyone of you for him
It is that where he was/is
pervades black, effervescent
and mysterious.
My ear to you at the table
the other stretching outward
being pulled taut toward
his voice-
How can a mother be fair
to all her children?
Let them know she loves them
none the less-
Yes. Just like I had
to claim boundaries
for you in life
I need to claim
them now-
And where does this journey
take me-
What is it I need
how can I be
good to myself?
A happy family
has a happy mother.
Let’s address the issue of failure
Let’s not confuse it
with the remnants of damage
foisted upon me
by my own parents-
It is a sorting time
I am Psyche
I am Hera
I am Demeter
I am multi-archetypes
running around in circus-like
fashion.
I take a serious, deep breath
exhale
–
Black wings burgeon
from my shoulders
Sometimes the strength
of the current
lifts me
sometimes it is necessary
to glide-
To be aloft
Sometimes it is necessary
to speak with a quiet
voice to the confusion,
to the critic,
to the lie
that is failure.
I met you with my eyes my son
I loved all
I was not perfect
I would crucify myself
to get you back
I have crucified myself
to get you back
I wish you were Lazarus
I wish you were Jesus
I wish you were God
I wish you could come
back to life
come home
as I know it
as we knew it-
I want my family
I am crying
but I am still flying-
tears fall over the Valley
worthless earth-
By saying so
do I exclude my children & husband-
Yes yes I would die
to be with you
I didn’t get
to know you well for long enough
I didn’t get
to see your life unfurl-
And now I accept this
this way
it is 2nd best
3rd best 4th best-
It’s all I’ve got-
I fold my wings
around my self
and curl in a ball.
