Mother Love

MOTHER LOVE

JCSTREET © 2004

There is no love like
a mother’s love there
is no pain that holds so plangently
the squalling infant which issues forth that
painful distention is
under no circumstances to be borne for anything,
anyone but my baby it

hurt me too, that squalling passage that
hurting hurtling hurl into the
Plane of Maya, into
this plane of gross matter this
death we live
before the rebirth which also
pain-girt lures us down
another tunnel to the light
everlasting that
hurtle hell of haunting up into the bright, that
rebirth into REAL

there is no love like a mother’s love we
are her body and
if we pain or die her body too
writhes and heaves and twitches
with dull pain there
is no
end to this mother love though
we boys do not feel
that hurt that hurt that
burns on an anvil
winces and sings through the long nights, there

is no hurt like the absence
of a child
the nowhere knowing of a child’s rebellion out there
on the Jacksboro Pike out there where
any southern sheriff can
extinguish
extinguish and pull out the heart
of a mother

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