The Eagle with Blue Feathers

Kimmery Moss

He falls asleep connected to me

His little lips on my chest

Hours later he wakes again for more

But I am no longer able

Supplies are low, desires are low

Mother is like an eagle who has been flying too long

I must perch upon my own soul and rest

I sing you to sleep this time

You claw at me and I am wounded

I read somewhere that OM calms babies

It was the first sound of the universe anyhow

How we know something that seems unknowable is irrelevant at four thirty four am

I OM something like twenty seven times before I lay you back down

My shoulder aches from my own doing

My stomach growls even though I filled it just hours before

My heart feels something akin to filling a bucket and simultaneously dumping it on frozen dirt

I will still be myself on the other side of this

though I will be different:

The eagle with blue feathers

Still circling the skies

Eyes on predators, eyes on the next meal

Only he does not want me in the skies

He wants me beside him, he wants me in his mouth, he wants me forever

The comfort is enough to burst my seams

The love is what I dreamt of when I set about creation

I would do it all exactly the way I did if the etch-a-sketch had been erased

had I the need to reckon and reassess

I'd retrace every last line with deft fingers

I'd stretch myself again for my own flesh

I'd feed every feed again, every time

no matter the blur of the hour

It's a wonder if we, mothers, ever feel whole again

our DNA walking the earth outside ourselves

not needing milk any longer

needing their own sustenance now-

the purpose driven gathering of information

every experience sought for its own dopamine goldmine.

Their own wings stretched wide

Their own eyes keen for what they need

It won't be mother soon.

How do I ever look back without longing?

It is true, it is

Time

The baby eagle has been sleeping for minutes already

and I circle still,

The skies are clear, but I circle still.

More from Kimmery Moss ↓

• @kimmerywrites on Instagram
• Her book Wolf Mother: A New Love Story is out now.
• Wolf Words: A Poetry Subscription for Women

You can listen to me read Kimmery Moss’, I collect first lines of poems, over on Instagram @rembrandts.cure

Mentioned in this episode:

Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only

Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO.

#WriteAfterOPO