do you remember?

Do you remember when the sky was your Mother,
thick gnarled arms planting you firmly inside her womb?
Do you remember when she wrapped you in swaddling blue
put butterflies and rivers, mountains into your
sleeping eyes?
Do you remember your Mother light as feather,
descending with the first fear you came to know:
when she turned her back and went about her business
and let you cry all alone?
Do you remember the way the sky touches your earth
even now?

Do you remember?