A Mother Drawn

I saw Mary in Peru as pastel chalks skimmed over a gray concrete sidewalk, felting the surface, baby blues and pinks vibrated with naiveté. The artist knelt each stroke given in homage to the Mother of all. I see Mary. The Quechua see Pachamama, earth-time mother, the oval shape of her beatific head tilts as if she’s watching— when as the dragoness she rises, she shakes the ground. A son of Lima dressed the dreary gray day with earth stone. Chalk forms Her breasts. He prays. We are all children at the feet of the Mother; the celestial sun and moon were birthed from her loins. I saw Mary as he drew with diligence. I saw my mother and myself, let all who birth be praised. First Published in About Place Journal Vol III Issue II