There was a sharp glint of pink in the universe,
northern lights crackled in the night sky.
There was a deep crack and rolling rumble,
a seismic icy shift, and a quiet shaking
that formed a crack in the mountainous block of ice, the glacier,
the glacier that is me, the mother of you,
when you moved away.
My little world, my grown woman,
you broke off and dropped into the deep cold blue waves.
I see you bobbing up, crowned with the rosy morning sun.
Sparkling like a diamond, glowing ruby,
an aura of love and warmth around you.
The whole world will change, the water will heat up,
Volcanoes will erupt underwater, hot lava freezing on contact with icy water.
The tremors will shake the world, continents will shift a few centimeters,
because you moved.
The earth’s surface is altered, the skin has rippled,
islands are rising out of the sea,
and the mountains have leaned back, sighing.