Grand Mother
Teach me that same laughter ruffled round your eyes
Adhering to waypoints
Lifting to speak with egrets and crows
Falling to step over unrestrained roots
Or to find the perfect one
You’ll later grind for cures.
Teach me that same gentleness stitched into your limbs
Drenched in noble codes
Drying to soothe base quarrels
Shrinking to fit undeveloped skill
Or thread the needle kindly
Your cataracts ignored.
Teach me that same patience seeping from your organs
Basted in all seasons
Puffed with slimy fosterlings
Ripened by totemic strainings
Risen from crocodile nests and elk scat
You misidentified.
Teach me that same grace vibrant in your blood
Churning hours to butter
Whitened by toothless clutchings
Sifted through thorn-snagged skirts
Woven with milk prayers and charcoal smoke
You offer reverently.
Teach me that same wisdom chiseled in your bones
Bleached on sunny hillsides
Terraced in nutmeg and mango
Pulsed into pies for sisters
Singing oracles to honeyed outcomes
You shape with practice.
Grand Mother
Teach me that same fervor and turkey feather fan
Tended in silent comet strokes
Rippled lakeside shadows
Coddled by generations
Or lead me to my untrammeled trailhead
And kiss me onward.
© V. Wolfe
26 June, 2013
