when my son was younger
he asked -

how old are the mountains
from where did the First People come
why does the sun sleep in the ocean
what is the color of rain

now that my son is older
stronger, wiser and bolder
he asks -

how old are the mountains...
...what is the color of rain


some things don't change.

Arise my body, my small body, we have striven
Enough, and He is merciful; we are forgiven.
Arise small body, puppet-like and pale, and go,
White as the bed-clothes into bed, and cold as snow,
Undress with small, cold fingers and put out the light,
And be alone, hush'd mortal, in the sacred night,
-A meadow whipt flat with the rain, a cup
Emptied and clean, a garment washed and folded up,
Faded in colour, thinned almost to raggedness
By dirt and by the washing of that dirtiness.
Be not too quickly warm again. Lie cold; consent
To weariness' and pardon's watery element.
Drink up the bitter water, breathe the chilly death;
Soon enough comes the riot of our blood and breath.

It was dark against a blanket
Of skin as white as snow
And I've hidden it in a way
So that no one, it, saw

But whenever I got naked
I look at it with fear
With despise and with helplessness
For I can't make it disappear

It had been there
For as long as I recall
But I never had enough courage
To break down that wall

I was never enough able
To show them that mark
'Cause I've seen people who did
And to their fire, it gave the spark

But to a selected few
This deformity, I've shown
Some would show me theirs too
And I'd say I'd never known

What if I wasn't born
With this godforsaken thing?
What if it's a scar that's due
To a young me's suffering?

So my despise melts
And in comes my sorrow
For because of this birthmark
I might not live to see tomorrow

we sit and talk, and for a while,
you kept me out with a sombre smile,
what little light you had left inside,
was drenched in thoughts of suicide.

Of course I knew the signs were there,
but scared to see your burdened stare
that met my soul, and had me frozen,
as time passed by like subtle poison.

The scars
On my legs
Are now white
...
And I'm
**Glad