we both cry at the beauty of Dawn

a poem for my mother

While the men were out killing each other

You were feeding the children.

While the “boys were being boys”,

You were tending to the garden.

While we closed our hearts and learned to ignore,

You kept yours wide open and paid attention.

…

I’m not mad at dad anymore, momma.

I’ve come to realize how hard it is to be a man.

Now, a father of my own,

I have nothing but admiration for him.

But as I look at this world through the eyes you gave me

I see now it’s always been far harder for you.

…

Do you remember momma, when I was a little boy,

How sad I was when the war began?

They called it “Operation Shock and Awe”. Remember?

Fast forward to when I left home, and 9/11 came.

Boy we sure showed them who’s boss!

I wept like a baby,

Not just for us

For Afghanistan too.

Everyone hated me for that.

Well, everyone but (mother) Barbare Lee,

Mother Earth,

Thầy,

and you.

…

Then I went abroad for the first time.

I lived in a black community where everyone hated me

Because I looked like the men who raped their children.

They never taught us about any of that in *history class.

They always just told us we were “number one!”,

That we just got to live great lives because God loved us.

But my host family had a different story to tell

And it ripped me open momma.

Almost turned me into Che,

But your love was too strong for that fruit to ripen.

And I knew revolution wasn’t gonna be enough.

Life’s losses haven’t debilitated you.

This is a miracle in itself.

And because of you,

Life hasn’t crushed me either.

Even though I’ve cried every day for over twenty years.

Every time I learn of a new species of rhino going extinct.

Everytime I swim in the ocean over dead coral,

surrounded by nothing but plastic bags and Coca-Cola bottles.

Everytime I see another dead baby from Palestine on my IG feed

Or hear of a language that has been lost forever,

Silenced by modernity and the illusion of “progress”.

Everytime another refugee comes to our farm seeking safety.

Everytime I’m at the village clinic

Watching kids get there education from Tik Tok

While waiting in line for diabetes medication

While their dads are out in the clearcut fields

Spraying chemicals over GMO corn

And eating KFC.

…

Last year when we lost our second child

Something in me died.

I haven’t been able to fully recover momma.

Some days I stay awake all night and scream unintelligible words at the Moon.

Another loss added to the heavy bag I refuse to let go of.

I’m not as strong as you.

But I know this is growing up.

This is life

and I look up to you.

…

You know who else is strong, momma?

Your daughter-in-law.

Somebody told me once that

boys long to marry a woman with the qualities of their mother.

She is like you, momma.

She never gives up on me.

Even though we don’t speak the same language,

Or eat the same food,

We don’t understand each others jokes,

Or like each others music…

But we have taken vows

To develop Understanding

In order to live peacefully with people

animals, plants & minerals.

…

:::and we both cry at the beauty of Dawn.

…

This world would like me to believe I’m a failure.

43 and I have less money in my bank account than I did when I was 19.

I dedicated my life to serving others,

A terrible career path, I know.

The most powerful man in America

Would surely call me weak.

A “loser”, in fact.

But I am my mother’s son!

You made me this way.

:::My Daughter Thanks You:::

I wish I could buy a ticket to fly home tomorrow

And give you a bouquet of flowers for Mother’s Day.

I can’t afford it though.

Turns out seed savers, artists and teachers

Don’t get paid as much as war profiteers.

But what I can do, and will do,

Is plant a garden here in your honor

From seeds given us by hundreds of other mothers

Whose struggle has been as heroic as yours

And when your grand daughter grows up

She can do the same

To honor her momma too.

…

I’m sad momma.

I’m sad for the world.

I’m sad that so many of my peers aren’t having children

because they are too sad to.

I don’t think all these strong men in power

Have any idea what conditions need to be present

For life to jump up and live again.

Men aren’t built that way it seems.

Men have a lot of good,

But they aren’t fit to lead.

…

Only a mother truly knows how to lead from the heART.

Having nourished a young child’s heart so perfectly

That as a man he can’t walk by a begger without giving him a dollar

Or read about a school shooting without weeping

Or ever forget that the POTUS once said it was just “locker room banter”

A mother knows what is best for a people.

…

I am sad mother,

Because I have a fully developed heart.

Because grief is the appropriate response to what the world is experiencing now

Because we will never mature enough to release ourselves

From the long, devastating reign of the patriarchy

Until we learn to weep.

Until The Great Mother Herself

Is moistened enough by our sincere tears

That those flower seeds can properly germinate

And teach us how to, like you,

Feel and empathize with all beings.

…

Don’t worry mom.

I am in good hands.

When you look up at the moon this evening

Know that tonight I am not screaming at Her,

I am offering Her thanks,

For you,

For Ramphai,

For the one we lost,

The one we gained,

and for the beauty of Dawn.

My mother (Dawn) and I walking peacefully together at Thích Nhất Hạnh’s “root temple” Từ Hiếu Temple, near Huế, Vietnam

🍉

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*Ms. Spengler. I see you. I haven’t ever forgotten. You DID teach us. You weren’t afraid. Thank you for the seeds you planted…

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OR…

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Suggested Viewing:

“We Are Not Living. We Are Enduring.” Gaza Mother on Struggle for Food, Safety Under Israeli Blockade

…

Suggested Reading:

Women Who Run With the Wolves; Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype

By Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Ph. D.

In addition to my own mother, this poem is dedicated to all mothers everywhere, especially mothers being violently harmed by ICE, all the mothers in Palestine and, above all,

OUR MOTHER EARTH.

…

#maypeaceprevailonearth