Another Mother

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Eingestellt von: WanHu

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© WanHu
Mother

I once had a mother
Two sisters, no brother
My father lost her
We needed another

I missed the things she gives a child
Like artistry and confidence and guile
A sense of importance
And easy concordance

She had always breast fed me
The softness and warmth
My only true north
But the compass was broken
The promise forsaken
A structural schism
An eruptive explosion
An embolism

I lived with the Fosters
With hundreds of faces
Different places
Most of the time


Then, the next mother. Fuck her.
Brutal and hateful
She was desperate and scared
But nobody cared
She took it out on me
Did a real number
Filled me with her fear
Til it came out of my ears
Talked the voice right out of me
So I used my memory
To mount a defence
The disengagement pretence


And then, one late afternoon
I was 16, alone in my room
She burst through the door
Expecting to see the usual fruits of adolescent privacy? Not me, I was upright in my chair, a thousand light year stare. I was meditating furiously.


But then, the third time's the charm
Brought up on a farm
Irish as clover and
Three times as clever
Steeped in the knowledge
Of the land, the lord and the nursing college
Full of love so profound
That she's an honour
To be around
She gave me her daughter
With life, love and laughter
The mother of my childen
I've seen all she's done

My real mother is Nature
Call her not The Earth
Call her Beauty
Daughter of fire and light
Weaving the narrative of life
Energy made material
Substance made beautiful
Order and peace
She gives us breath
And an illusion of individuality
But she's more than just that sliver of dust
She is the shifting rocks
And the fires below
She is the magnetic core
Goes Woahwoahwoah
Humming


But we are she
What then is left of the mystery
Who are we?
We are Her master craftsmen,Her tool makers and users
We're pattern recognisers

Her lifters of weights
Her trend analysers
Radical reformers
Her reprobates
Her long term planners
Her document scanners
Her diggers of ditches
We are Her riches
We work, not just for ourselves
Or to set ourselves apart
Or for Freedom
Or just for family or friends
We are creators and crack engineers
We regulate,
anticipate

We analyse,
prioritise


There's work to do
We need a plan
Data driven
Guided by truth
Question all decisions
Science based
But outer space
Is not our great ambition


We are children and art
We are The eight Billionaires
Each with a front seat on a spaceship and an unsurpassable view
We are human, helpers to the Stars We have reached the level of complexity required
Beauty has different intelligences
Not just human
Not just animal
Our future is mycorhizal
Once we killed everything that got in our way
Now it's our job to make order
And beauty
For we are She
And this is her nature
The nature of the Sun that made her
And you and me.

The Earth is alive and thus are we
Illusorily independent, individual and free
Every breath moves a few cubic litres of her air from here to there
We can make money, we can consume
But there's a big grey beast with a trunk in this room
We only think because She thinks
We only breathe her air
We are receptacles
For however much consciousness we can carry.

We have a purpose

We maintain our own society
But we facilitate and experience The Earth
One day

The past is dead
The future beckons
The end times a decoy, my preacher reckons
Leave your bibles and your stories
The tales of blood and glory
For the ground on which we stand
Was once and always is The Promised Land

Copyright July 2022 W.Ian Young (WanHu)