to a child – barely
able to tie shoes


through fields,
trees, at
water’s edge

provided shelter,
grounding –
whispered cautions

child grew,
left her side –
pursued dreams

until life
overwhelming –
an adult returns

“Mother?” she cries.

“Here,” Earth responds.

(It’s quadrille night at dVerse, and Kim is hosting with the prompt earth.)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

39 thoughts on “Mother”

      1. maybe it’s a thing with age, as i get older my consciousness heightens or maybe because we let go of more burdens. but yes it is a cycle and hopefully one we keep constant to nurture not destroy

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