A mother has a mountain inside of her,
but her head is above the clouds.
She must be prepared to feel the
rivers run from a collection of rain
into the sea at her feet.
A woman stretches out her clenched fist
to feel a sunbird in the pool of her hand, bathe
and then fly off.
It is important to know
when to hold onto the dirt and the root
and when to cleanse your hands in the fountain.
Birds swoop from her soul into her heart,
catching insects on summer days softened by rain.
Love is here beating upon her.
She has only to observe the threshold of her womb
to know how much love
has passed through her body.
She is a threshold of many doors
and will let the feelings find a way on
through.
Wind must usher forth the rest of it
with seeds finding a place to grow,
carrying only the burdens away.
The sky clears with high clouds cirrus
speaking of everything hopeful.
Inside of her is a place no noise can reach.
She is floating on a sea of courage
bearing her aloft.
Under water a whole world is thriving unseen,
but such seekers of silence dive into it
and come up themselves reborn,
ready for dry land once again.
Jenneth Graser
Photography Victor Carvalho Unsplash
An uplifting, reviving poem for all mothers. Thank you and look forward to more.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much my friend. It is lovely to hear from you x
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