Tau of my lament, my sin--
or sins-- My head, my heart, my hand,
A bind on my waist and shadow
On my eyes, green or blue or brown,
I forget the name of this one looking
Into the eye of Muhammed,
The small one and the strong one,
They were built with joy.
Are my desert and their desert
Filled with the same dry bones?
Here, says my mother, Eat.
I've forgotten, I say.
My sister brings me water
Wraps my hands in her hands,
Touches my hands to her heart.
Tau, she says, her thumb on
My head, my hand, my foot.
We know, we feel, we go.
The Naturalist poses for heaven,
And the rains fall,
Mothers give away
To new Mothers, superior
Gardens, dreams and visions
of our living one, our thirsting
Mater Dei-- behold your son!
Behold your mother!
The earth is at the same time, mother,
Tau-- the mother of all;
It is in this place of seeds and wind
That blood falls to ground,
Body fails-- tau-- all creation comes from it,
The verdant one, I forget her name,
She says, This God undertakes,