I remember every first moment
your first breath, first teeth, first steps,
you consumed me for decades
first words, I understood what you meant
even when others heard gibberish
first days of school, every event
ballgames, plays, dances, graduations
first loves, every dream you dreamt
I was there for every fail and success
you consumed me for decades
even now your presence fills this empty nest
Magic 11 poem – my variation on the Magic 9 poem, a 9-line poem that doesn’t have any rules as far as meter or subject matter–just a rhyme scheme: abacadaba. Enter the Magic 11 abracadabra poem with the r’s intact, placeholders for a refrain. Rhyme scheme: abRacadabRa. (R for the refrain).
A Complicated Mother’s Day
It’s just a Hallmark holiday, a day of
profit for florists, restaurants and
chocolatiers, a day of burnt breakfast
in bed, macaroni creations, brunches,
lunches, love and adoration, sweetness,
sleeping in for some, queen for a day….
but not for all, for others there’ll be no
fawning children, no candy kisses, no
skyping, text-ed, voice-mailed wishes,
out of sight, out of mind, some will count
the loss of children never born or lost
to death too soon, childless mothers on
the outside looking in…while others just
beyond the veil will swoon from summer
land listening to the whisperings of
children young and not so much who
wish that they had one more day to rest
their head upon their mother’s breast
to hear her heartbeat one more time,
just one more day…and others still who
wish that they could reconcile the mothers
that they wanted with the mothers that
they got and mothers who wished they
could have been more, or better, or less
flawed, we are a complicated lot, mothers
young and old, passed on, passed over,
clinging to memories, sifting through
old photographs, the beautiful, the
melancholy, bittersweetness, children
come and they grow, regret’s a futile
exercise, so please remember to be
kind, don’t assume that just because
she’s had a fruitful womb she’s feeling
blessed, for some, it’s just hallmark
holiday at best, hearts put to the test.
i am not the mother they
wanted, but i remember
the happy innocent days we
shared, quietly holding
each moment, and i smile
though my heart is sad
that they don’t
Magnetic Poetry – The Love Kit
A perfect Mother’s Day weekend is coming to an end. Perfect, not because it was perfect…perfect because it was not…perfect.
Like life, the weekend was peppered with disappointing mishaps…the gift that didn’t arrive on time and a flat tire that derailed our plans for the rest of Sunday morning after a lovely breakfast.
To my daughters who were disappointed that their gift didn’t arrive on time, knowing that it is on its way stirs memories of the months I waited for each one of you. You have already given me the best gift of all. You have each given me your presence, your sweet smiling faces, your laughter, and the precious gift of watching you grow into amazing human beings. I’m glad to wait a day or two longer for your special gift. Each time I look at it, I’ll think of all of these things, ponder them in my heart because that’s what mothers do.
And about that inconvenient flat tire. To my first born who delayed her busy schedule to help us get the tire repaired, I admit I was almost grateful for the detour. It gave me a few more minutes with you and reminded me of what I already know. Though we are all busy with work and school, spiraling in different directions day to day, family, our family is the gravity that holds us together and keeps us close. We are connected by an invisible cord.
My idea of perfection might seem a little odd to you. But it is the messy imperfections in life that touch my heart the deepest.
Happy Mother’s Day!
Happy Sunday. And Happy Mother’s Day! Today’s shi sai doesn’t really need an introduction or summation. It stands alone. It says it all.
But this I know. Having a mother, being one and having the joy of watching my own daughters become mothers is a mysterious, miraculous, demonstration of grace. Grace….embracing, releasing, forgiving, healing…with love unconditional, deep and infinite.
“Mother” is a word that conjures up a full range of emotions. For some, love and nurture, and for others, it can be…complicated. But for all of us there is grace to be who we were born to be.
Shi Sai Sunday, A Week in ReVerse – 8 May 2016
grace always makes room
flooding the earth slaying the soul
every morning before dawn
shades of soft wisteria
dreams, sweet dreams, quenching
those guilty of turpitude,
so I couldn’t pass this one up
you already know
surrounded by your favorite flowers, thorns and all, I would like to thank you Mom, for inspiring me even in your brokenness to become the daughter, woman and mother I am today….
hug your babies while they’re young
time passes in a blink!