Mother’s Milk

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i rowed my little boat,

my little boat

        across the river.


i forgot to ask–

did you make it to the other side?


i did,

and then i drank,

and then i drank the color

of the sky

through my hollow throat,


and it sounded like Mother’s Milk,

like Mother’s Milk,

and it nourished all my bones–

         even the Past and the Present.


the scavengers, the farmers,

the warriors, and the goddesses–

the devout, the sacred, and the sinners–

all lockstep with me.


             i forgot we were Connected.


i stroked your fur,

i stroked your fins,

and your feathers,

and felt our electricity

and its singularity.


it was peculiar

and familiar.


and we talked–

and we walked

through the woods,

spinning prayers with our hands.


above our heads, colored flags

fluttered, snapping

in the breeze–

in the breeze,

offering medicine to the Earth

and to our flesh.


and it rained,

and it rained

from the sunny sky,

tapping on the leaves

in stereo symphony,

while brooks babbled in our veins

for purification.


i asked why we’re All Here,

and you said,

and they said,

“only because You believe in Us

and You love Us all the Time.

it’s the Mother’s Milk–

the Mother’s Milk

of the Divine.”


and i said,

“this is true–

this is true

for all of YOU

but not for me.”


and You laughed,

and You laughed,

and You said, “don’t You see?

       You’re Everything with Me.”


and You carried me to the temple,

where i met You through my Self

         –we were always perfect–

and we held hands and swung them like friends

while we shined forever


–and i wrote it all down–

i wrote it down

because i might forget again