Sunday 25 January 2015

to all the new mothers...

the constant companion
silent conversations
dialect - hand rub, foot kick
you are not alone

a metamorphosing of skills never before embodied
yet, so natural
kindness, with a ruthless ability to kill
unconditional love, with the strength to fake indifference

standing on the stage,
you are ready for your biggest part to date
yet you have received no training
improvisational art to a full house
my definition of parenting

lights,
curtain,
push...

the newly birthed mother stands alone
steam fills the bathroom
she wills herself to look in the mirror
bump diminished

grief overwhelms
she cant go back
part of her is missing
a death

every beginning has an end,
its ok to feel loss for the end.
the end of me,
the birth of mom,

never mind the bumps yoke its softly breathing in the next room,  alive

that being is different
that being is a beginning

and so we start...

lights
curtain
parent.









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