The Root of All

Whaur wuz me mother’s arms

When I was gasping for air

wi’ th’ black mouth fevers an’ chills?

Whaur wuz she when serpents

fell like rain an struck

their venom intae oor throats?

When lightning bolts an’ tunder

Splintered oor hulls an

Tore apart our decks?

When waves like mountains

Crashed upon us an’

Sent us asunder?

Whaur were thos’ momen’s

Whe’ e’rythin wuz clear

As I set me eyes upon th’ Cruces?

Whe’ th’ sithar strings

an’ th’ dance steps

marched ah’ thru’ th’ evening?

As nights marched

throo the seasons   

an’ left us marooned

to be lost forever

beyon’ th’ reach o’ th’

Living God?

Whaur wuz she?

Whaur were thay?

About jedwardnajera

I am an artist and a Poet. I live the life of a poet. I published several novels. Nena the Fairy and the Iron Rose, Dust of the Moon are among them, available through Amazon Books. I have spent over thirty five years in a classroom. I am now retired from that profession. My father kept a living record of his lifetime as he lived through the Twentieth Century. He was born in 1908 and almost lived long enough to see us enter the new millennium. He entrusted to me nearly 400 pages that he wrote through the years. Now I am continuing the tradition by posting my own stories and misadventures. I am trying to post a new entry or chapter each Friday. Check in on us at least once a week for the latest post.
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