Mother is Here
by Katelyn RIVAS
Katelyn Rivas, Black Girl with Floral Lungs, mixed media, digital collage, 2024. Courtesy of the artist.
Mother IS HERE
KateLYN RIVAS | MAR 2024 | Issue 31
Mother is here. Mother gives Baby Girl a bath in the kitchen sink. This is the last night they will be together. Mother placing Baby Girl in warm water is here. Baby Girl splashing her small hands in the bubbles is here. Mother washing Baby Girl in soap and tears is here. Baby Girl is slippery and wriggles in the water. Mother holding Baby Girl so she does not slip through her hands is here. Mother massages her fingers into Baby Girl’s hair, curled from moisture. Baby Girl cooing and giggling is here. Baby Girl is here, looking up into Mother’s eyes. Mother cradles Baby Girl’s face and whispers, “Your eyes are like golden sapphires. You set me on fire with love.” Mother, who is rubbing a soapy washcloth over Baby Girl, is here. Mother rubs the washcloth on her face, her neck, her stomach, her legs, her feet, her toes. Mother lingers here. Mother, who is swaddling Baby Girl in a towel, is here. Mother, who is dancing on the kitchen floor barefoot with Baby Girl close to her chest, is here. Mother sings, Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen, but glory, hallelujah. Her voice whistles through their home. Mother, who is swaying with Baby Girl, is here. Mother, who is looking out the window, is here. Somewhere the sun is going down, but to Mother the stars are coming out. To Mother, Baby Girl is a comet. Baby Girl is a ball of fire spun from Love. You belong out there, Mother whispers, among the golden sapphires lighting up all of our darkness. Mother is here.
Katelyn Rivas is a poet, essayist, researcher and mother who examines themes of Black girlhood, abolition and care for Black bodies through her work. She completed an MA from Eastern University in Urban Studies and Community Arts and has a BA in English and Writing and Art and Design from Northern Michigan University. In 2019, she published the chapbook “Radical Self-Care for Black Women” and founded the Detroit chapter of The Free Black Women’s Library. She is currently at work on a memoir about her experience as a transracial adoptee composing her own definition of Blackness where she weaves personal and political narratives through braided essays that combine prose, verse and Black Feminist reproductive rights issues. When not writing, she can be found adventuring with her daughter and partner, laughing with friends and dreaming up her garden.