I live in the unknowing
Will you come and visit me there
I am your daughter
Once a part of you
You carried me
Everywhere
Then I was born
And you carried me no longer but
You would visit me
Everywhere
I live in the unknowing
Will you come and visit me there
You crossed oceans and borders
Stranger thresholds for me
You would visit me
Everywhere
To the hospitals, to the streets
Wherever I lived
You would visit me
Everywhere
I live in the unknowing
Will you come and visit me there
You left your home to be with me
To care for that which I loved
You would visit me
Everywhere
Would you leave your certainty
Would you leave your faith
Would you visit me
Everywhere
I live in the unknowing
Will you come and visit me there
Maybe there is a place
Where mother’s can’t go
© Ruby Neumann
I wrote this with a lot of mother's in mind... including my own. I hear stories of mothers going to visit their children that require them to cross strange thresholds.
What does it take for a mother to cross over the Strange Threshold of the Unknowing? Can she pick up that book, can she make that call, can she have that conversation, can she journey out of her faith, if only for a day, to see what is beyond the borders of her knowing?
There is many a daughter who can't invite her mother across this threshold, out of fear, out of shame, out of respect, out of love. But will that mother cross it herself if only just to visit her daughter where she lives?
