In the darkness my mother answers my songs
with her songs
while we are both tied to a ladder and punished
nine lashes of the whip
counting out loud
nine nights in a row
strange novena of pain
instead of the usual novena
of prayers
instead of nine rosaries prayed
for nine nights in a row
as if someone on earth had
so arrogantly decided
that God would not listen
the first one, two, three, four, five, six, seven,
eight times!
He listens
I hear Him
He answers with Psalms whispered
through the mouth of my mother
a Psalm about the music of life
and one about escaping like a bird
from a hunter’s trap …
Is it true that King David in ancient Israel
really wrote such sad-happy doubtful-hopeful
back-and-forth maybe-someday
no-not-maybe
these-are-promises absolutely-definitely
but-we-have-to-wait
songs?