"We're all just walking each other home." - - Ram Dass

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

This Galaxy Called, Mother


We sit side-by-side on our front stoop.

Hands held, fingers no longer fitting perfectly in mine.
Your hand is clammy as if even your very pores are impatient for me to release you.

Yet we sit chins up,
allowing the moon to pull our shadows long behind us as we count the stars.

You whisper that you learned in school
that by the time you can see the stars, they've burned out.

Extinguished from the sky before anyone
ever had a chance to tell them they were beautiful. 

But that you?  Oh, my firstborn son.
No. You don't quite believe them.

You think that we are witnessing the stars entering a new galaxy.
That they aren't dying but going to a place beyond our own sky, yet to be named.

A place made to rest from the burden of having to burn so bright, and for rebirth.
Because, you see Mama, if souls can be reborn, then surely stars can too.

And when you look me straight in the eye and tell me that sometimes it feels like you've been there,
that you remember the star atmosphere like you can still feel a dream when you're awake?

I see that galaxy in your seeking brown orbs.
In the irises dancing, the twinkle of trapped star dust.

These are the moments that I know long before the seven years I have been given as your mother,
your soul and mine were knit together.  Forever linked by Mother Moonlight's hum.

Her lullaby still rocking us to sleep each night.

I hold you in the space between my heartbeats.
The place where the soul exists but science cannot yet place.

Never has there been a more breathtaking teacher
then that of your own flesh molded by the Divine.

When you came into my arms, I was but a 22 year old girl.
Overcome. Afraid I was never to be seen.

But just like with those old stars, you took to my breast
with each draw of your life on mine, letting down my anxiety and worry as you seemed to whisper:

"I see you. 
 Rest now. 
 You burn brightly enough for me...

 Enter into this new galaxy I've named for you.  
This galaxy called, Mother."

{Joining sweet Emily today and the Moonshine Grid}


  1. Now that I've had the experience of SEEING you and HEARING you read your words (because of that glorious video of LTYM), I can still SEE you and HEAR you in these words. And it makes me quiver down to my bones because ain't nobody who can say it like you do, Galaxy-Called-Mother. Ain't nobody.
    And I'll never - ever - look at a night shadow without thinking of the moon "pulling it long" behind me. You dazzle me, darlin'.

  2. Beautiful, beautiful. Thank you.

  3. So, so beautiful. Brought me to tears.

  4. Tara,
    You spill out so effortlessly that which is sometimes difficult to utter. Thank you for your gift of beauty and joy, friend.

  5. ohhh, this pours like water from a heart so full.

    absolutely breathtaking words.

  6. "The place where the soul exists but science cannot yet place."

    yes, Holly said it right. yours is the skill of taking truths too deep for most of us to speak and wrapping them in words.

    and it looks as if your son may have inherited this gift, as well.
    sow on, listen on, love on, beautiful mother. we all wait with anticipatory joy for the unfurling.

  7. Your boy's thinking reminds me of these words from Wordsworth:

    Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
    The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
    Hath had elsewhere its setting,
    And cometh from afar:
    Not in entire forgetfulness,
    And not in utter nakedness,
    But trailing clouds of glory do we come
    From God, who is our home:

    Those boys named Owen. They are something.

  8. Tara,

    Those breathtaking moments in the moonlight, or on a walk, or on a dewy back deck watching fireflies flit by. That time together is priceless, huh?

    Fun to picture your conversation with your seven year old under the stars that were burning.

    Have a great week,
    Jennifer Dougan