From Under the Air

When you weep
and grow weary
of the pain
in this world you made

and tire of the weight
of all who cry out
and gasp at the ways
that fear unsettles the souls
uproots those planted in you
tosses them to the winds in terror

Where do you take refuge?

Do you sink into the deepest pool?
Find your way along the rising thread
to the heat at the center
the swirling heart that binds us
all in place?
Do you let yourself
be held by the gravity?

Or do you find a home
among the leaping ones?
The rays who bound
from sea to sky
The orca launching high
from under the air?

Yet even there is no escape from grief
Witness the mother who carried
her lifeless calf
for seventeen days

and
seventeen
nights

A howling protest
or proof of the strength
of mothers who have the will
to carry loss
far beyond a heart’s bearing

You, Mother of us all
how long
have you been carrying us on your fin?
Do you, too, grow thin
waiting for resurrection?