Bloom, Bone of My Bones

Spring feeds on their love making, on her pain, on her blood… and helps her birth life into their garden. The canvas that wraps her babe’s bones is still red, malleable and fragile, with the sweat of her inner paints. Her womb feels empty, but her arms and heart brim with tomorrow’s green.

When her babe cries in the night, she grows teeth on her thorns, shoots iced-flames out of her eye, and cold-burns any threat. Her all stands between her babe and the unbalanced darkness—the dark that promises to pull, to reap, to crunch, to swallow and excrete, if she ever closes both eyes.

bloom, bone of my bones;
be petal, fall, be snowstorm
mom’s guarding your all
.

written for Let’s Haibun Her a Tale – Dark Poetry for the Cruellest Month, 2016 (Day 6)
and linked to dVerse, Open Link Night

detail from Shelle Kennedy’s “Madonna of the Flowers”detail from Shelle Kennedy’s “Madonna of the Flowers”
find Shelle on her blog, Etsy shop, and Facebook
(and tell her she needs to paint more stuff!)

65 thoughts on “Bloom, Bone of My Bones

    • Thank you, Esther. There is something about that painting… Her protective fierceness, the smoothness of her skin, the sharpness of everything around her… It makes me feel like she would do anything for that babe.

  1. This is fiercely beautiful my Wicked friend… madonna’s never close both eyes, too much to absorb, too much to protect, and never relax, as they need for their babes a bed of flowers in the world’s garden of evil… “Her womb feels empty, but her arms and heart brim with tomorrow’s green” the hope of the domestic madonna has never been so well realised xox

  2. “Her all stands between her babe and the unbalanced darkness—the dark that promises to pull, to reap, to crunch, to swallow and excrete, if she ever closes both eyes”
    YES!!! Amazing, I enjoyed this poem immensely.

  3. A fierce and tender depiction of a mother’s love. But this phrase “if she ever closes both eyes” this made me think, who takes care of this devoted and loving mother? Beautiful poem with admirable power of love.

  4. Girlfriend, this is just too good! I especially like that opening: “Spring feeds on their love making, on her pain, on her blood” … Also this: “When her babe cries in the night, she grows teeth on her thorns”

    You are so cool.

  5. i am always a sucker for portrayals of mothers as raging forces of nature when it comes to protecting their children. you did such a great job with this, compacting a mother’s dangerously protective nature into such succinct phrases.

    • Thank you. The first time I saw the painting, I wondered, What would make anyone look this dangerous and possessive?. So I’m very glad some of the answers I came up with translated well. ♥

  6. Blow, blow, thou winter wind, thy breath is not so cruel as a mother protecting her young… and yet, ultimately, forced to let them go. Link that with renewal of nature, with the cruel month of April with its changeable climate – and it’s a poem which makes me shiver a little with excitement!

  7. The haiku reads like a chant or affirmation ~ Wonderful portrayal of the mother Magaly ~ This lines really resonated with me: Her all stands between her babe and the unbalanced darkness—the dark that promises to pull, to reap, to crunch, to swallow and excrete, if she ever closes both eyes. WOW!

  8. Damn damn damn this is great … I keep going back to the “sweats of her inner paints” that line especially makes me want to grow up to be a poet inside the emotions of Persephone …

  9. I like your take on this painting. I found it a nightmare image but you have found nurturing and protection in it. I am looking at this photo differently now based on your words. Mom’s guarding your all…beautiful words for this painting.

    • Thank you. I really like what you have said. It makes me think about the times we look into the eyes (or the life) of a parent and judge their ways without knowing the complete story. A parent who feels his or her children are been threatened can turn into a real monster. We would do terrible things to protect our young, and every once in a while, that makes us seem quite terrifying.

    • There is a fierceness that fills the heart of a parent, especially when children are very young. All that tender fragility has to be protected… especially when it’s bone of our bones.

  10. Gorgeous imagery. If this haibun only consisted of the sentences :
    ‘The canvas that wraps her babe’s bones is still red, malleable and fragile, with the sweat of her inner paints. Her womb feels empty, but her arms and heart brim with tomorrow’s green’ and the haiku it was still be perfect.

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