Soul Womb / the Guf
Not remembering you in joy
how had this come to be?
No memories of you content,
no happiness to see.
No happiness for your whole life
though plenty filled your plate.
Bards filled your mind at early age
with beauty on the page.
The home you had was pin cushion small
pincushion small, it pricked
with a violent soul rent from the Guf
raw poverty , rent and licked.
While violets held the windowsills
and mother’s soul was sweet
denial visited much too oft
father’s drunken anger did compete
Longfellow laced your nascent mind
The Children’s Hour your treat.
You escaped to Edgar’s house
The Raven at your feet.
You read to me from Golden Books
of Joseph’s many colored coat.
Mother goose set the dreamscape
as Nod rowed by in boats.
I know this must have happened oft
yet no memory do I retain.
Just the lilt of longing reciting
of others happiness on the page.
May the Guf be kind to you
and return you full of joy.
May the sparrow find for you
a kinder living story.
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