Three : Nicaragua/Mother/Max

1.

Little, she said, little is how you get to heaven.
Their little hands wrap around mine,
their little feet pat along side me,
and my heart breaks at their littleness.

Little, little, with hearts big enough to bridge
gaps in language and culture.
Because Love speaks only one language,
and they, in their poverty, are fluent.

Little, little Sylvia and Gabriella and Robertito
big eyed, legs caked in dust,
stomachs always grumbling,
they are more generous with themselves than I ever was.

Little, little, how do I save you?
Keep your little souls from being tarnished by
the reality of your life?
How do I keep you little?

Little, little, I think,
I hope,
I know,
I will see you in heaven,

2.

At 15, I abandon the idea of motherhood,
and I think I abandoned you, Mother.

On the steps of a career I left you,
On the steps of rejecting I left you.

They place a child in my arms and for the first time,
I think about you, Mother.

How did you feel,
when they placed the King in your arms?

I see your face, looking at your child,
your King, your God. How do you fathom it?

Are those tears, Mother,
running down your face?

Are these tears, Mother,
running down mine?

I'm glad I found you again, Mother,
I'm glad you've never left me.

3.

They stick a needle in your arm
you
you
weren't supposed to live this long.

Word keeps you alive
you
you
keep others alive with the Word.

They sink the needle in your skin and
you
you
how do you feel, finally given over to the hands of your Lord, of your Mother?

When you robed yourself in brown did
you
you
know that you would die on the floor of a cell in a Death Camp?

If I were there with
you
you
would I have reached out, knowing how great a heart you had?

The man, he has a wife, a child and
you
you
are just an old priest, weak, yet you live longest.

It breaks me to think how you suffered
you
you
dying on the floor in a cell in a Death Camp.

You did it with a smile
you
you
died.

I reach out on a Saturday night and
you
you
saved my life.