Happy Mother’s Day…


“I’ve never seen a sky so blue!”

exclaimed my New York Jewish film professor, visiting from the city.

We were in Sedona.

We weren’t there for the vortexes,

though I cannot now be sure they were not without influence,

as he became increasingly and comically bewitched by the preternatural preponderance of phallic protuberances looming everywhere he looked,

magnified, frozen-magma monuments to the Freudian,

on which a buried boyhood could clamber up

from beneath the layered and cracking patina of adulthood,

as a spring bursts forth to fill that big sky.

Now, twenty years on,

after months of coping and chaffing under life’s constraints,

I have wandered in sandals through late spring snow to be cradled and cleansed in the breath of sighing pines.

I lay my head back on cold granite

and I hear his words fly up to meet that same sky

of ageless, medicinal blue;

benevolent screen for all my projected hopes;

blotter for the hemorrhage of collected demons;

and singing a silent song of release to this ischemic heart.

*   *   *

Here, I AM.

*   *   *


where my mother never went, or wanted to,

I am more myself,

and better able to know, honor and absolve

the courage and contortions of her soul…

the camouflaged triumph of her life.

M.L., MayDay, 2017

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