My Mother is the Sea

My mother is the sea.
The crux of death, the womb of life
where the prodigal wind of the west
and the sylvan storm of the south,
where eastern monsoon and northern snow
meet at the end of day
and become one.

My mother is the beginning
and the end—
everything in between are just
wide, silent spaces waiting to be filled
by my mother.

My mother is the sea.
My mother is not extracted
from a mountain’s rib—
instead, my mother is the sea
who gave birth to the mountain.
Her soft, tiny hands are the roots
that gave strength to the trees,
the trees that offer shade
of warmth and comfort—
shades that gather us all
and become one.

My mother is the sea.
Where rain has evolved
and gave flesh to the sky—
the rain are my mother’s tears
tears that celebrate life
like the day when I was born.
Her tears nourish the earth
fertilized my seed and made me a man.
There is no world without a woman,
without my mother.

My mother is the sea of love
where love and life are borne out of blood
like the day when I was born
when blood was life, not death
when warriors and hunters come home—
blood becomes life in my mother’s hands
blood becomes love in my mother’s heart.

When I die, I will be back to the sea
where my mother is—
I will be back in her arms
where the roar and whisper of waves
are her glorious voice,
the music of life where we all gather
and become one.

My mother is the beginning
and the end, the end and the beginning.
My mother.
The sea.

–Pasckie Pascua

Vampire

Darkness falls over the heartland
like a giant cape of black clouds
swarming the abyss—
as the neon gods of The Capitol
pulled the blinds down
at the Oval Office;
twilight envelopes
like cellophane curtain
from Key West to Memphis
Saint Louis to Algiers;
the mighty dusk devours
from Camden to Georgetown
Camp David to Washington—
it’s time to rest beaten backs
drained of flesh by
production lines
that stretch from void guts
of the poor to overflowing
safety deposit boxes
of the wealthy.

And as purple haze signals
a black crow’s call:
I lurk in between the cracks
and survey the grieving earth.
I am here because humanity needs me
my bite will be your salvation;
your blood feed me
so we live as one—
so surrender, surrender
and live again.

I am a vampire—
your never-ending midnight
hour reminder;
I wasn’t born yesterday
so don’t tell me what
I already know.
your fireball of pale sunlight
will not burn me
daylight’s last gleaming
has been cast and gone;
let me look you in the eyes
I see disconnection from your truths
agony of estrangement from your soul;
I know you because I was there
thousands of years ago
when you were just
a sylvan muse
dancing beneath a full moon’s glare
bathe in innocent glory
naked under an immaculate robe,
until you left the virgin glade
and frolicked among
the perfumed slums
of your concrete nightmares.

But my beloved humans,
be young forever from within
despite decay from without;
stay with me, be with me
aftermidnight is our eternity.

–Pasckie Pascua