Raspberry
All of the times
that you wished she was here
- tiny seeds of memory
who grew into longing -
are wrapped up
and swaddled tightly
in your cradle board.
Don’t believe the hype.
The real holy blood
that gave you life
came from your Mother.
<———————————->
Todos los tiempos
que deseabas que ella estuviera aquí
- diminutas semillas de memoria
que creció en anhelo -
están bien envueltos
en tu tablero de cuna.
No creas el bombo -
la verdadera sangre santa
que te dio la vida
vino de tu Madre.
©BrittanyJadeWilson
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Also in Poetry
Live Oak
She came to us on a lazy Mother’s Day afternoon,
Carrying the story of our family between her brow.
The passages of the births and deaths of our Ancestors
Etched in lines on her hands and face.
Ylang Ylang
…Stormy nights I woke
to the scent of you visiting me yet again,
Meet me there - our place - on the illuminated
plateaus
where creation and humanity meet.
