ma ma–

I envy those that had a mum,

it rhymes with um,

a perfect sounding

to proceed every child’s request.

So mom, mum, ma ma–

Your provision is life itself,

and yes, that we are here,

that we suck oxygen

from this thin air every second,

the sky truly

your nourishing breast.

I guess I see how

that must make us all,

some seven or so billion of us,

sons and daughters

of God, I prefer Goddess

(the brutality

of masculinity in this world

too much a travesty).

Would you turn toward us

your grace filled eyes

and drop a tear over this

world, so traumatized,

afraid and weakened.

Your children are in need

of a healing intervention.

Please mum, please.