ODE TO BERNIA

Two drops of water, asleep. Asleep and frozen. Serene and silent. Two virgin tears.

That is what they are, yes two virgin tears, carved,refined, solidified into two forms of the same silver verse. Born of a young, feminine spirit that once gave life to me.

From her tears, they came. Two sister drops. Identical, elongated. Born of her devotion to witnessing how the moon’s spectral rays first kissed the cheeks of her newborn child.

The moon, a divine deity, veiled the night with a whispered promise to watch over that newborn girl. A true promise, made from one mother to another, sealed by two tears shed the moment I was born.

From her, I inherited these two sleeping drops of water that now hang from my ears. Asleep and frozen. Serene and silent, their whisper heard only by me.

My mother often told me that it was the moon who transformed those two tears of joy into the silver art that veiled her face on the day I was born. And now, they live on as two amulets resting close to my ears, so I may always hearthe whisper promised by the moon: you are always safe.

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