Mermaid Milk

a summer solstice poem

I fed my babe in the waves today.
He pawed at my chest,
as we waded through the water.
There was nothing to do but oblige
gladly, and I did.

He suckled
the sweet,
salty,
sandy
blessing of my breast,
while the other gave back
to the sea,
offering its magic
to the Mediterranean,
a shimmering cauldron
under the summer solstice sun.

We swayed
and drifted
to the music of the tides,
our bodies lulled
like a cradle.
His legs curled
around the core of my body.
His eyes blinked slowly
toward rest.

I wondered how many mothers
seafarers, sirens, village fae,
have fed their babies
in these same waters,
digging their toes
in this sand for stability,
giving themselves
to both child and sea.

It’s in these moments of motherhood
that I find myself
in something bigger,
deeper waters,
mystical currents,
hearing the siren song of mothers past
a language I couldn’t understand before.