Grandmother Longing
Grandmother Longing
A Love Letter
I want to lay my head in your lap,
help you carry wood,
stock the pantry,
graze my fingers along your bookshelves
looking for magic.
I want you to push me aside
unceremoniously,
Show me
the best way to knead dough
Show me
the true gesture of planting seeds
Teach me
the proper way to make the fire
So that in the delicate morning
the still-hot coals
make starting over
expected, natural.
I want your gentle, fierce reminding
To remember who I am
Because you know,
You took the time,
You died a thousand deaths already
Just to be an Elder.
You walked a thousand miles,
You wrote a thousand poems
in the Night Sky,
in the quiet journals
of our family
Knowing we would need them,
need the ribbons on the trees
the Cairns
the Holy Wells
to mark the way
On the winding path.
I want you to want me
To remember you
to the little ones,
Remember you to the Waves,
The Wild Wood, the Shape of Seasons to come.
I want you to want me
to tell your tales
Like Teliesin at the edge of time,
I want to vow to you,
No, no — you will not be forgotten.
I want to save you from the poverty of old age
The wasteful doom of forever young,
Imbue you with the grace
I feel in your presence.
It’s not your job to mother me,
But I want you to.
It’s not your blood in my veins,
But I want you to say—
Yes, we are related.
I want to inherit your way
Of singing Corn Song,
Of being still like stone,
Of weaving, fearless, webs
Of erotic yes-ness
at the gloaming places.
I want the right
To speak at your funeral,
In case no one knows what to say.
Like any granddaughter,
I want to be the one who underestimates you
And is shocked
By my naivety
Schooled by the breadth
Of your pain
Your strength
Your exquisite body
Softened by the thunder
Of your own, hard-won Truth.
I want my son in your arms,
Not later
But Now.
I want you to let me off the hook
From doing this all alone,
Pretending I know more than I do.
I want to live next door
Like we used to.
I know it’s too much to ask,
But I want you
to make up for the empty seats,
The names in my book
with no earthly coordinates
The silent, throbbing white noise
In the room of my life
Where the Elders should be.
Into the mist,
My Mother,
My Grandmothers,
My Grandfathers,
My Great Ones…
Fragments, visions, poems,
Clearings in the Wood
Songs of Spirit in the blood
Possession
Stags and Seals and Eagles,
Sorrows, death
Unbidden power,
Diamonds in the grass,
A dozen recipes at best.
I am like a spool of golden thread
Unwound
Gathering up my Selves
My Soulines
Making my best guess
at who I am,
from whence I came,
Meeting with my kin
in Caves by the Sea
Hollowed ground
Desert shadows
Dreams and Daydreams
trying to let that be enough.
But then I see you there
All wise and rosy fleshed
Pulsing with your fire eyes
Keeping me on my toes
Breathing Life into my cells
And I ask you with all my heart,
Will you be mine?