  Brown Mother, Earth Mother, my love does it stir, is it living? Is this seed-time in darkness? It is bleak, and the rain Drums hard on this silence, makes heavy my pain. I am blind yet the wind does search me like eyes that are old. O, my Mother, sweet Mother, through the lengthening night it is cold! Brown Mother, Earth Mother, the swell of your bosom, the scent of your hair, They are life, they are death, two in one to your child, Like the flame of your blossom, the sweep of your wild, Or the primal red mud of life’s sowing. Earth Mother, brown Mother, dear Mother, will the long night be run?... Touch the root to its milk, do you say? Send the sap to the bud, Feel the five-fingered leaf on my bosom, the grass on my lip? Find my bed in the wild? Bear the rose and the lily for child?... O, my Mother, Earth Mother, reach me round with your loving, Fold me in to your heart, base me deep on your breast for this sleep! Then, Mother, sweet Mother, with the clay and the spring I shall wake, Turn my back to the East with its frost and its manacled trees, Turn my face to the West and the blaze of my lover the Sun! |
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