The love of Love

Recall,
with what pain mother bore me
as my head pushed through from womb to earth
what fears, what tears, what wailing
she dared not fail at pushing
for love of life, of mine and hers,
as even dad was hearing
did she not know?
the end of her self giving to the man I call papa,
was pain, was joy, of both a finer mix
poured into the me then yet unseen;
from which to get both joy and pain,
and each in its due season
she knew, experienced she
for before I were six of us,
she’d been through this,
nay, they’ve been through her for all that time
yet she gave herself again to him, and solely;
for another him or another her,
for me, the first of mine, the only
pleasure, vanity, ostentation
was it for the fleeting pleasure of that night?
was it for the name of mother?
was it to show to prying eyes that her earth was rich in creation’s dust,
enough for yet another Adam?
sure, t’was none of these, but what?
“increase and multiply”,
increase: she gave the world a seven-fold
multiply: there’s three from every one of three,
who walked down the aisle with the man on suit,
from now three years before,
indeed a pledge of more to come
obedience, it was
to the voice of Him who made all things,
beauty for seeing eyes,
melody for hearing ears,
rest for yearning hearts
eyes are yet blind for all it sees,
ears yet deafened to eternal bliss,
neither can all of man and genius,
think up a fitting picture of all what Love will give us
for Love is wont to expend Himself
on all obedient hearts,
nay, Love took flesh, Love for rebels suffered,
mother gave me life of body, mother experienced pain
Love gave me life of soul; me, mother and all
Love surpassed Mother, Love died.
To grow in love of mother, good
in love of others, better
a third is love of both, than both of greatest might,
the end for which all us were made,
that self-forgetting love
In it we find the love of mother,
in it we find the other,
the love of God whose name is Love
is Love unlike another.

