A common space for harmonic peacemakers
To all of the good mothers, wives & lovers everywhere: a Blessed Mother’s Day.
Of all the women of this world, you are the one who must be; through you the mystery and beauty of woman continues.
Of all the mothers of this world, you are the mother who must be; through you the mystery and beauty of mothers and of mothers’ children goes on, traveling toward tomorrow like countless streams and rivers.
O—look how Earth welcomes you as rain!
Of all the lovers of the world and all the dreams of those who are lonely in their soul’s longing for life’s miracle, you are the one most dreamed of and deep in the soul of longing. Even
should the night stars hide their eyes and morning breeze forget the song of day’s beginning, it would be a cause of much dismay and poets, caught in the fever of this strangeness, lament, cupping tears in their broken voices. But
all in all, all in all if
you were not here—suddenly like an eclipse of October moon—if Earth had never felt your footsteps, or sun never blushed before the eloquence of your eyes, what would I be in this fire of existence, in this snow of dismay, dressed so poorly in my rags of silence, with an anguished and a hollow ticking heart? Of all words,
words ever spoken now or before, flowing like stardust from the hosts of wounded angels, none shines like Bethlehem above your name—not one! Even, oh, even, even in
the depth of midnight when the shadow of a wolf gains more power on the Earth than the breath of heaven, I say to myself, “Each man must have his own belief, so as not to drift into nothingness and forget himself even sooner than his life is forgotten.”
Only I no longer believe in the fictions and abstractions of the world. But still, still…
I believe in you
in all of the world..