A Wish for Comfort

It is after midnight and for a moment sleep is gone away somewhere. I am thinking about all the mothers across the world tonight who cannot give their children clean sheets and ice water and baby powder and air conditioning and safety as we have been able to do. I won't say we are blessed. No. Because if some are "blessed" then others are cursed and that is not the way of our Sacred Mother Earth. Her hurricanes and avalanches and eruptions and quakes and tsunamis will happen anywhere she wills it, and not for curses or blessings but simply to Be Her Alive Self. It only happens to be that at this moment I am not in a place where one of these is going down, just dumb, random luck. She is not blessing me, or taking from others to be more generous to me, she is not sparing me. She didn't give me electricity by taking it from someone else who didn't pray to her as well as I. It is by chance that the waters have not yet carried me away. It is after midnight and I am thinking about what it means to be a poor, black mother in Louisiana, in Haiti, in Nassau, holding on in the aftermath, calling out, I am here, I am here. It is after midnight and I am haunted. I kiss the Green Boy. I kiss the Green Man. I envision and wish for comfort for all the Earthling women and their families who are hurting tonight.