Hélène Cardona

My Mother Ceridwen

The light on the icon,

The way I see her in my dreams,

The core of her at the edge of darkness,

In a magic cauldron always full,

Never exhausted,

That brings her back to life,

Guarded by a golden serpent

Coiled in the shape of an egg,

The world snake marshalling

Inner reserves,

The seed of a new journey,

A glimpse of the mysterious and elusive,

A woman in a wreath made of morning glories,

This is how she lands on the page,

Slanted, looking out in space,

Integrated within me

Save the blue sky across her face.



My Mother Ceridwen” is from Life in Suspension (Salmon Poetry, 2016).