Questioning gaze of passengers
shine the doubts of futureless humanity.
Pessimistic depressing doubts.
Lonely eyes extend the light
unto this portrait of a fatherless child.
Embraced by the darkest sleep,
in the cradle of the mother's keep.
Her battle rages beyond the flesh,
till horizons end, till lost times,
where harm cannot injure innocence.
Her metal dagger hangs between
her womb and the many masks of death.
Anglo mother, on black nights
made from raven's shadow,
feeds the naked hungry babe,
draped in city robes, within city crowds,
on the rail roads underground.
Breast-giver, great mother,
feeds unfathomable dreams of language
to the blank unprepared prodigal hero.
Widow of a warrior, journeying through
epic harmonious worlds as virgin,
bonded with the warm blood of her generations,
with life thriving on the curves
of her slender arm, she has imitated,
the myth of the undefeated ancient goddess.
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