By Birdie Marie Rodriguez
Under a cordial sun he offers seaweed as ambrosia and stops at the splendor of a shell, turning its ribbed flaxen in his palm against the breath of the sea
He turns up in his mother’s hair like the promise of a campfire—loyal in wet sand where high tide bear-hugged the shore only moments ago
They are illustrations on the breeze, mother and son for a thousand years He holds her hand like a compass, has his way with currents and merriment,
and she is an anchor in the deepest of his ocean And Time will unfurl like a bolt of fabric, yards of seamless linen held up to the light to reveal
all matter of heart She will lead him to the Promised Land, and like Moses, she will not enter. The waters will recede and swell, recede and swell,
and she will learn to read the ocean the hard way—to pour herself out for the freedom of childhood. And when she empties, she will pick up her pen and write of his
bucket of seashells and how he played with her hair, and his tiny hand inside her palm as he scampered in consonance with the waves, and this is how they will always be
Birdie Marie Rodriguez is an accomplished folk artist and an emerging poet. She has a passion for storytelling, and is inspired by history, theology, nature and family. She has been published in Prometheus Dreaming, Esthetic Apostle, and Ever Eden Literary Journal. She lives on the Coastal Plains of North Carolina with her husband and three children.
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