Born by Wislawa Zsymborksa

So this is his mother.

This small woman.

The gray-eyed procreator.

The boat in which, years ago,

he sailed to shore.

The boat from which he stepped

into the world,

into un-eternity.

Genetrix of the man

with whom I leap through fire.

So this is she, the only one

who didn’t take him 

finished and complete.

She herself pulled him

into the skin I know,

bound him to the bones 

that are hidden from me.

She herself raised

the gray eyes

that he raised to me.

So this is she, his Alpha.

Why has he shown her to me.

Born.

So he was born, too.

Born like everyone else.

Like me, who will die.

The son of an actual woman.

A new arrival from the body’s depths.

A voyager to Omega

Subjed to 

his own absence,

on every front,

at any moment.

He hits his head 

against a wall

that won’t give way forever.

His movements 

dodge and parry

the universal verdict.

I realized 

that his journey was already halfway over.

But he didn’t tell me that,

no.

“This is my mother.”

was all he said.