Mother of Mothers

I wonder at the volume

of the earth, its capacity

for birth & blood shed.

 

I wonder at the labouring

of woman for the love

of man & child.

 

I wonder at the fallen child

who runs off playing

before the tears have dried.

 

I wonder at the man

who seeds & builds

what will wilt & fall.

 

I wonder at the densities

of ever-changing masses,

the water cycle & the seasons,

the customs & the peoples,

trash in landfills,

nukes in silos,

satellites in the sky.

 


 

Word Prompt: volume

The title, “mother of mothers,” is from ‘I Sing the Body Electric’ by WALT WHITMAN.

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