For Michael

How shy,
this compassion
between baby and mother.
Nursling and goddess.
From a small eternity
of silence,
he gazes into his mother’s eyes.
Each
come into the other.
The mother
gives back the river
inside herself.
Takes care,
in the cord of their union.
That it never breaks,
that the world remains.
I view,
in the mother and child,
the winter and summer
of ourselves,
and the legacy
of a mother’s love.