With Child
By Genevieve Taggard, 1894 – 1948
Now I am slow and placid, fond of sun,
Like a sleek beast, or a worn one:
No slim and languid girl – not glad
With the windy trip I once had,
But velvet-footed, musing of my own,
Torpid, mellow, stupid as a stone.
You cleft me with your beauty’s pulse, and now
Your pulse has taken body. Care not how
The old grace goes, how heavy I am grown,
Big with this loneliness, how you alone
Ponder our love. Touch my feet and feel
How earth tingles, teeming at my heel!
Earth’s urge, not mine, – my little death, not hers;
And the pure beauty yearns and stirs.
It does not heed our ecstasies, it turns
With secrets of its own, its own concerns,
Toward a windy world of its own, toward stark
And solitary places. In the dark
Defiant even now; it tugs and moans
To be untangled from these mother’s bones.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers, grandmothers and mother figures out there.
I hope you liked this month’s blog post. The books in my urban fantasy series, Primordial Realms, are available at Amazon. Please let me know your thoughts by liking, commenting or subscribing.
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stacy benedict 