Ingesting Light

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Born in the darkest of alleyways,

she was laid in a box, in rags,

the body which expelled her

too cavernous in its own need

to hear her starving heart

break. Abandonment gets

in your DNA, they say –

cripples the soul, twists

the bloom  – but deep calls

to deep, innocent

instinct spawned in

unholy soil.  She raises

her head to the sun,

ingesting Light.

Just Like Mama

She wants to be just like Mama.

She dabs on perfume

and purses her lips to receive fresh coat

just like Mama.

She dreams of carrying a purse full of wonders

and strutting in heels higher than the moon.

She tosses her hair and holds chubby fists to her hips

and wags her finger at her dolls,

exerting her own measure of control over her smaller domain.

She will grow up to fear failure,

hold her tension in her shoulders,

spit angry words under pressure,

just like Mama.

And when she has daughters of her own,

they will dream of stepping into her dress shoes,

growing up to be

just like Mama.

*

Some things we pass on to the next generation are so beautiful – faith, courage, grace, dignity.  Some can be tossed into the recycling bin, to be lovingly reworked for new use.  Others need to be thrown out completely.  What chains of generational heritage are YOU breaking?