For Mother’s Day

Fused, viscerally
Blood and bone
Bodies knitted
Together, whole

Then – over time
A gradual shifting
So small, so slow
It happens invisibly

And yet somehow
Further and further
We drift apart
The world remaking

Painless on the surface
Yet violent beneath
Pressure builds
Rivers of magma flow
Propelling the future
Cracking and colliding

Until an ocean stands

Between our bodies

It’s natural, necessary –
How the world works
Forging mountains
Carving valleys

You only have to love
A child to understand
Plate tectonics as
Magnificent cruelty

Once close, now distant
Yet always bearing
The outline of where
We once were one

Note: The image of this poem came to me so clearly, but coming up with a title was a real bear. At first I played around with ‘Drifting’, forgetting I had already written a poem with the same title. Right now, I’m calling it ‘Divergence’, but I don’t feel this really connects with the warm, tender place it was written from. Hopefully I can come up with something that feels like it fits a bit better in the future.

Photo by Rainer Krienke on Unsplash