Changeling: A Riddle
An ordinary birth ceremony three drops of river
A child opening her mirror, tiny hands holding her bag of truth
dropping tiny creatures at dusk abandoned in institutional burning
linear medicine scattering to the three regions father son holyghost
She has never stopped stirring Her pot
She is always in my kitchen
whether I am there or I am not
An ordinary birth ceremony suicide poets wandered severed
three drops of blood on my uncapped head from my uncapped vein
Europeanamerican women lived in fear
of wild woman lurking on the outskirts of towns
Suicide poets wandered severed, altered, waiting to devour children
Seal hyde boat
three drops of river
three drops of blood
light of the crown
light of the crown
light of the crown
light of the crown
light of the crown
light of the crown
Where is the god who forsakes us?
In the waters.
Where is the white cloaked man with delicate skin?
Pretending with his palm foreward.
I am my mother. All that I have created I bless.
With the fluids of my body, I welcome my death.
On my arm I carved this crescent.
What I say sounds familiar. I am my mother.
An ordinary birth ceremony. I am my mother.
Copyright 1998 Beridha Beridha.
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