When three years of age she was,
the girl saw a vision that haunted her.
Abandoned by her mother with a baby
in the backseat of a red car too big for her,
yet it moved across a sea of automobiles.
The baby, she believed, was her sister.
She never understood why they came.
She never understood from whence they came.
She only knew that they always came.
Dark shadows bringing blackness greater than night.
Her great-grandmother had them too,
spoke openly of voices and visions.
In her presence alone the girl felt belonging,
a like minded knowing that people exchange in quiet smiles.
It was said that the Grandmother had aged into madness.
Dismissing the ramblings of the old woman
by adults, gave cause for her silence.
Native superstitions, they said, from Grandma's childhood.
They came to the girl at night,
mounting blackbirds in the pitch.
Tightening the openings around windows
she tried to keep them out with
barriers crafted from clothespins and fabric.
She placed tiny crosses on windowsills made of toothpicks.
An old native American woman once told the girl
that she was special, a child of gifting
one that wasn't filtered from her by
white blood and religion.
That night the girl saw
a great white whale worthy of Melville.
And in it’s mouth a great vessel,
and aboard the vessel was her mother.
Still, she hoped the gift was of God.
Clutched tight her rosary, and prayed.
Confusion and secrecy knit together her
thoughts and in silence she remained.
Few knew about the gift, others whispered
about the knowledge of the things that
drew from her the child-like images
more accurate than divination.
The girl became a woman, and put away childish things.
She buried her gift in her heart by faith.
She carried it in silence, with it’s visions.
She swallowed whole the key of release, in prayer.
And with it, envisioned her Great-Grandmother freed.
Linking up again with dversepoets.com for Open Link Night. With a grateful heart I welcome you and thank you for reading my poetry. Your visit is appreciated. Comments are welcome, thank you for them, your words help to carry me to my next poem. Have a blessed evening, I hope to see you at the pub!
