Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Three Stones


For Tobias,
For Micah Stone


Child
I give you
three stones
a trail
    to lead you
            home.


One.
Gabbro.
Dark brooder
    Forged
from the molten center
    shaped by
the weight of the earth.
To remind you
that your burdens
    those fiery depths
are what made you.


Two.
Jade.
For purity, luck, prosperity.
A royal comma
    a grand
        caesura
Your story is not yet complete.
This is your history
    dynasties of shamans, kings, and mystics.
A talisman
    to ward you.
An ornament
    to adorn you.


Three.
Agate.
아기. Baby.
This is you
Stone Child.
Cast off
plain brown
    Forgotten.
But within
    cracked open
    a geode
dazzling brilliance
crystallized in perfect pattern
meticulous bands of dark and light
complex combinations of
opacity transparency
precious stone indeed.


Child
I leave you
three stones
    三
a sacred shrine
a lasting prayer
To remind you
of your ancient orogenies
of how you will endure.

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Writing Prompt 2: Photo Album


My mother leans back
against the flimsy wood paneling
eyes half shut
rocking
My cousin’s son
swaddled tight
sighs
his breath sweet and milky
against the curve of her neck
She pats his back
in that firm cadence
of mothers whose hearts have broken
This is what could have been
Twenty-seven years too late
This is what will never be
between us
There is a poignant sadness in her face
rocking somebody else’s baby
Had it been me
would that crease between her brows
remain
Would she be even more weary
from years of battling
the harsh blades of society’s tongues
Would she look upon me
with resentment
the golden years of her womanhood
wasted
on an awkward little girl-child
Give me
three years
to put my own daughter
in her arms
And then we shall see