Mother

by Lory Widmer Hess

 Mother

from Sanskrit mātṛ', a measurer;

one who measures across or traverses;

a knower, one who has true knowledge

She is a bridge, a green snake

turned to gold. She carries you

from shore to shore, measuring

distances between worlds.

She bears your weight, stretching across

the empty air with radical trust,

not knowing how this works, nor why

the span stays up. She did not build herself.

For she is the knowledge, the building

buried in the earth, unseen

except by bodies filled with light.

She waits for the temple to rise.

She is sacrifice

and hope. She hopes that you

will reach your journey’s end, although

she cannot walk with you.

Yet legless she walks, eyeless sees,

encompassing all in her great ring,

reflected in you as in the river

when rushing waters are stilled.

Lory Widmer Hess currently lives in the beautiful Jura mountains of northwestern Switzerland with her family. Her essays, poetry, and book reviews have been published in Parabola, Kosmos Quarterly, Red Letter Christians, Braided Way, Ruminate: The Waking, Soul Forte, Agape Review, Untold Volumes and other print and online publications. She blogs at enterenchanted.com.