Mother I am getting old
Mother I am getting old, I feel so very cold.
The blood does not flow where once it rushed.
The toes are blue while the face is flushed.
Mother, wife, o daughter mine
Hug me tight, in my arms entwine.
Do not let me slip into the river
The moving world that flows beneath my feet.
Keep me snuggled in your breast
Oh god I want to rest.
No place for me here?
I’ll dig a hole to China
And pass through molten magma
And burn these bones into your memory like charred remains
I am digging a pit to cover me with earth the size of pyramids
I am tunneling into the ground like a worm
And excrete stone monuments to stand above me.
The winter snow will cover me like a blanket that I draw up to my chin.
The summer sun beats down and I am cool in the moist soil.
The breeze is a gentle breath I can feel on my non-existent cheeks.
You cannot give birth to me, I have closed your womb behind me
And in your dark depths, I will be anchored
Unless god himself is the doctor that pulls me out.
Screaming like a child that wants to stay in his mother
And scrabbles his way back into a mine,
Oh mother, my mother, I am thine.
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