Mother New Mexico

Mother New Mexico, look at her beauty. She stretches outwards endlessly, her mountains laying calmly amongst the endless plains of her belly. She bears all kinds of children, antelope, cougars, jackrabbits and yuccas and cacti, bipedal fjelskkdke. She loves them all deeply, and gives her whole self to them. They call her home, Mother New Mexico. Her lover is the Sun, and together they create tenacious life. Mother New Mexico fell for the sun as his warmth pulled her deserts from her. He enchanted her with a gift, one every morning, and one every evening. In the morning, the Sun gently awakens his lover with his colors, spreading them amongst the clouds with a quiet softness that slowly brings heat to her cold deserts. Her children awaken and stretch in the Sun as she delights in their morning gallups and chitters, the smell of black coffee and fresh breakfasts filling her lungs. She looks up at the Sun, and he looks down on her beauty. He loves her so much that as the Night comes, the Sun paints mothers mountains and mesas with even more colors than he brings in the mornings in an attempt to remind her that he will return for her again soon.

For millions of years Mother New Mexico and the Sun and all her children lived in harmony, and the sun never broke his pattern. Every morning, he brings his colors, and every evening, he paints her mountains and mesas.

One day though, long after the Sun had painted her mountains, and about an hour before he brought her more colors, Mother New Mexico was abruptly awakened by the sun. There was a sharp, agonizing explosion of pain in her womb. She light up as though the Sun had come down to her crust, bashing her plains and forcing his way into her womb. He did not bring his colors though. There was only white, blinding light. Some of her children quickly went blind. It was sudden, and the Sun’s trademark gentleness was matched in unmeasured pain. She could not even cry, for the sound the sun made as it exploded inside her drowned out any cries for help.

She didn’t know it wasn’t her Sun. She didn’t know why this had happened. She was lost and confused trying to understand why he came to her twice that morning. Because later, he brought her colors and painted the mountains as he normally did. And life went on.

Mother New Mexico would never forget this pain though. How could she? Her womb was left blackened and scorched, and her children after bore her scars. Some were born without eyes; others never made it from her womb. Many of her children were cursed to live a lifetime of pain and suffering. She watched helplessly as they grew sicker and died younger. How could her Sun do this?

But it wasn’t him. He looked down on her, petrified. For he saw this False Sun had entered the world and ravaged his lover. Eventually, this False Sun had crossed the ocean, spreading his cancer to yet another Mother. And she suffered too.

The Sun’s children were dying and all he could do was bring warmth and light. So that is what he did. He and Mother New Mexico persist, but they carry with them a pain that can only be shared by other Mothers who have lost their children. They don’t know that human oblivion detonated a nuclear weapon on Mother New Mexico’s stomach.

Now Mother New Mexico, the Sun and their children pray they never have to see this False Sun again. But the False Sun still rises, claiming more Mothers as his prize.