Today, on my walk, I was listening to a podcast interview. The child’s game — Mother, may I — was mentioned. I continued on my walk, turning the podcast off, as I often do to listen to the sounds around me.
The symphony of the birds I heard. The warmth from the sun shining above as well as the coolness and the shelter I felt from trees — along with the phrase — Mother, may I — birthed these two poems. Each uses this phrase – but in different contexts.
They came to me in this moment of inspiration.
I literally had to run home to write them down.
Enjoy.
Permission to be me
Children skip
and play
and ask
Mother, may I?
seeking
permission to be
Who
They
Are.
Me too.
Mother, may I?
Mother, may I?
Mother, May I?
Mother, May I? May I look upon the sky Open up to the sun Brazen Blazing Your sun You sky Feeding all of us – animals and plants The sun Your sun Heating us up. Mother, may I? May I embrace Your tree trunks Roots grounded in you. Arms outstretched toward you. toward the heat. the fire. destroying us. limb by limb. Mother, May I? Sink my feet in your sand as waves lap upon my toes. Gazing out at your expanse Blue, Blue, Blue Everywhere above and below. My heart is blue. As the evidence Man-made swirl around me Syringes, plastic, and other debris Deposited Dumped on you in you Upon your shore. Mother, may I? Pause. Come together heal help hope. Mother, may I?
Wonderful use of free verse. The rhythms are so evocative, and the imagery comforting even when they are discomfiting.