My Mother Is The Last Piece Of The Holy Trinity

for Cecelia.

I.
i believe in my mother, / her memories & the pains
& every time i prayed,
i mentioned / my mother’s name
& made / it holy like the Trinity

dear Lord, may this / not be the last poem / i will write for a woman
who has protected / her own son like
the way you had protected yours

2003, in a broken country – with / a thin body,
my mother baked /a thick wall inside my skin
that’s how i survive / a war that was fed with
babies’ bodies / being crowded with bullets

[“& lo a voice from heaven, said, this is my beloved Son daughter, in whom I am well pleased.”]

II.
i am my mother’s first love –
her yesterday, today & forever

a scars that show / her…