The Common Good
I trust you’ve appreciated the work submitted thus far by Amber, Joy, Tim, and Davey. Today it is my pleasure to introduce you to yet another fine poet. Micha (pronounced MY-cah) Boyett is a youth minister turned stay at home mom trying to make sense of vocation and season and place in the midst of her third cross-country move in three years. On a slow journey of learning prayer with eyes open and arms deep in sticky dishes, she blogs at Patheos about motherhood, monasticism, and the sacred in the everyday. Her forthcoming memoir The Mama Monk will be released in 2014 from Worthy Publishing. She lives San Francisco with her husband and two sons.
In a recent FB conversation with Micha I learned that she studied poetry under Mary Karr. I swear – Mary Karr – ain’t that a kick in the head. Micha, thanks for adding to The Common Good, and congratulations on the memoir!
Rooting
When the child tore out of me, I roared. It ended. The midwife lay him on my empty belly. Skin on skin, he bobbed his head along my chest.The instinct is rooting, foot over foot, mouth unhinged. Millions of years,
the new born hunt for mother, for milk. In the bed, later, I straddled ice.
My husband said, You look beautiful. You look like a mother. Years before,
in a slum, I clutched bread to my chest then released it to the children near.
Naive, I expected a happy few mouths filled, a tender thank you. How to know the mass
that gathered, the manic shredding, shoving, the screams. Their bodies crawled on hands
and knees for crumbs. They clawed, swallowed. Weeks later, back home, I picked at my burrito.
A friend said, You look older, sadder. Months into this one’s life, I nurse
on the couch. My body keeps his living. Your face has changed, my husband says.
He smiles. He doesn’t say it’s longer, it bears more. He doesn’t say, Look
at all you’ve carried, Look at how you’ve filled yourself and built this life,
Look what you’ve born, what you’ve poured out. Beautiful, he says. How to feed a child
without alteration? We all root, foot over foot toward the nourished hope. We all are blind,
fumbling by scent, by touch. Children break free from us.
We do as we must. We feed them.
We do, indeed. You have captured impeccably the sublime transformation of motherhood. Beautiful! Thank you!
This rips me up, Micha! Just absolutely beautiful, indeed.
Yes. Motherhood marks us forever; it gives us new eyes.
Kelly, Amber, Melinda — Thank you all. Very much.
Ah, Micha. Perfection – thank you. And it just downright makes my heart happy to see connections between two of the finest wordsmiths on the internet in this blessed place. Thanks, John.
Diana, thank you. I’m grateful for the connection as well. And honored to be here.
Yes. Thank you. Hope. Ripping. Truth.
Yeowza. So good.
“Naive, I expected a happy few mouths filled,
a tender thank you. How to know the mass
that gathered, the manic shredding, shoving,
the screams. Their bodies crawled on hands
and knees for crumbs. They clawed, swallowed.”
This bit slayed me.
And this:
“In the bed, later, I straddled ice.
My husband said, You look beautiful.”
File that image under things I’d never considered about child birth.
xoxo,
Teen
Ha! Thanks Teen. I know, right? A little TMI! So grateful for your kind words.
Never imagined I’d be so grateful for “the ice straddle”!
Didn’t anticipate the depth of the changes, alterations and beauty!!
Couldn’t have imagined the intensity of despair and delight to “do as we must” and feed!!!
I’m blessed…and fed. Thank you!
Thanks so much, Cathy.
Stunning.
And yes – I have been in that same situation with the hungry kids- felt the same thing.
This was beautiful – thank you.
Thanks so much Tanya. Grateful to see you here.
Beautiful, Micha. Love your poetry so much, friend.
Thank you, Annie. Always grateful for your encouragement.
“My body keeps his living.” Such a beautiful image. I’ve breastfed four babies now, and I think it’s eucharistic, the way mamas feed their babies from their own bodies. How can being Christ to someone in such a visceral way not change us? Thanks for putting that ineffablility into words and images.
I love that! I’ve never made that connection to it being eucharistic. Now I have to go think on that for awhile. Thanks Kimberly!
Amazing…..you ALWAYS BLESS me
[…] On Tuesday I had the opportunity to share one of my poems at John Blase’s lovely blog The Beautiful Due. He’s been featuring the poems of several writers and bloggers he knows and I’m honored he asked for my contribution. I gave him a poem called “The Rooting” that I started the week after August was born and only just finished recently. (Okay, let’s be honest. It’s probably not finished. Must. Revise. More.) Can I share it with you here? […]
So beautiful.
[…] On Tuesday I had the opportunity to share one of my poems at John Blase’s lovely blog The Beautiful Due. He’s been featuring the poems of several writers and bloggers he knows and I’m honored he asked for my contribution. I gave him a poem called “Rooting” that I started the week after August was born and only just finished recently. (Okay, let’s be honest. It’s probably not finished. Must. Revise. More.) Can I share it with you here? […]