Mother Poem by Rubius Nox

The house which defends,
its bones show.
Mother is suffering,
orphaned of harbour,
alone,
she rows to the storm.

As the last leaf of autumn
a bird abandons its song.
It pleads with a mute soul;

Which words know thy tearful light?
And what is written there?

Alas to suffer is to rise;
The thin ribs follow,
evoking the wolves breath,
through worn moonlight,
she offered her blood to the ice.
The winter’s lights are done.

And last, the baby.
So mild amidst its cradle
Falls-
Eternal in its dreams,
Through cosmic motions strange,
as a planet in orbit,

What holds its course?
but the faithful gravity of others.

What picks it up?
but the fall.