The Embrace

and I didn't quite know,
until you raised your arms
as your being smiled,
and circled the walls
of a crumbling bastion
I had held on to
for perhaps too long,
that the waters from
the womb of our eyes,
breaking into a swell,
as they met for a moment
in a timeless embrace
of water and earth,
fire and breath,
gave birth to
and held close,
the kiss of a new
unlived life.

The Love of my Life

"Life is cruel", I said
the other day,
in a moment of apathy,
like a little child
cursing her mother
for a love
that she could not feel;
and then,
as if to respond
to that moment of weakness,
she held me today
like a true mother,
whispering sweet nothings,
through the words of a friend
I haven't spoken to for long -
a song from a heart
that seems to know mine;
words that rose
out of the blue nothingness,
where my eyes and heart
melted and flowed
into each other,
held in a timeless embrace
by the one I most love.
Life.

Torch Bearer

have you ever wondered
how little children see the world?
how they see magic
in the shapes of cookies
they pop into their mouth,
in the scratches and stains
on a daily-washed floor,
in the way ants talk to each other
as they carry their treasure home,
in the workings of eyelashes
or taste buds
or a brain that never sleeps,
in the way things are born or die -
where do they come from?
and where do they go?
have you ever wondered
how little children walk this earth?
how they stop and marvel at things
even in their busyness,
little things that skip our eyes
that are too scared to close,
too scared to die into a world
that is but a journey of souls,
where the torch is passed on
to someone else,
whose turn it is now
to walk the next mile?

Being Child, Becoming Woman

and I slipped into her robes
for a while,
so I could feel
what she would feel,
and I saw Joy -
a little child
rediscovering
her eyes, her hands,
her voice, her feet,
and the tune
of her own heart
drumming with mine -
both growing,
being children,
becoming the women
they were always meant to be.

Birth

I am no more your mother
than the dark soil
where you rest -
your womb, your coffin
until it's time;
I am no more your mother
than the flaming sun
that stokes your spirit -
reclaimed, rejoicing
at your arrival;
I am no more your mother
than the flannel clouds
that distill joy
filling your every cell
and breath;
I am no more your mother
than the agile wind
who carries you
to the moon and stars
every now and then;
I am no more your mother
than the dancing trees
under whose shade
you will sit some day,
where your eyes
will wander
to the sun and the earth,
to the clouds and the wind,
to the moon and the stars,
who called you
into this world
one fine day.

Coming Home to You, Mother

You gave me my first home

as you carried me with you,

for nine long months

safe, inside your sacred womb.

You gave me my second home

as you cradled and nourished me

with your breath 

and your warm bosom.

You gave me my third home

as you made space for me

to take my first unsure steps

into an unknown world.

You gave me my fourth home

when you held and rocked me

to feel  safe enough to sleep

when I had lost my way to myself.

You gave me my fifth home

when you showed me the way

to love something beyond myself

so that I could get back to loving myself.

You gave me my sixth home

when you gifted me both -

roots to hold onto, and wings

to fly to a nest of my own making.

You gave me my seventh home

when I had my baby

and you held him in your arms,

the way you had held me.

You gave me my eighth home

when you stayed with me,

held my hand, and wiped my tears,

to give me strength, when I was ill.

You gave me my ninth home

when I gave my baby

the space to grow and be himself -

what life gave to me, when I was in you.

You gave me my eternal home – myself,

so I could open it out to the world,

while I find my way back,

to come home to myself

and to you, my dear Mother.

Mother and Child

I am not the one
who takes steps
or speaks thoughts,
I am not the one
who inspires
or feels love,
I am but a child
on my mother's hips
carried along
on an exciting trip,
to explore the world
and my unique gifts;
when I feel safe
on my mother's hips,
the world comes to me
at a finger's click.