A mother’s heart is the sun –
the rays of her love,
the beams upon which
a child learns the skills
necessary to navigate
life’s tightrope walks.
****
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there.
Tag: parenting
Parenting Adolescents
Daughters ride
emotional escalators –
while sons prefer
a higher ground –
more attic than sound,
motivations vague
Parents observe,
bite tongues
wish they had a key
to disengage lethargy,
ignite reason –
and turn the volume
down on drama.
Guidance Needed
She is listening,
watching, her mind
absorbing –
so many images,
emotions,
lacks the filters,
the context to frame
experience into rational
understanding –
guide her with patience;
treat her kindly.
Freak Show’s in Town
Come one! Come all!
Step right up folks!
See the amazing,
one-of-a-kind,
baby-juggling
woman!
Come see this matron
turned tigress!
Witness how the weaker sex
transforms into a powerhouse
of resourcefulness –
a magnificent multi-tasker!
You will not believe your eyes!
These are no ordinary
babies, Ladies and Gentleman!
See the menacing three-year-old
who looks like an angel but
has the mind of a devil!
Look upon the smallest child –
only months old, but with lungs
that will shatter glass.
Be awed by the gigantic
boy baby, youngest of them all,
whose appetite is insatiable.
Step right up folks!
Watch as this extra-
ordinary woman
breast-feeds two babies
and prepares supplemental formula
all whilst reading to the third!
Behold how she balances
two baby carriers
while strapping
a toddler into
her car seat!
Marvel over how
she shops for groceries –
a impossible feat!
Ladies and Gentlemen!
Tremble as she manoeuvres
her two-carted entourage
through people-ridden aisles,
list firmly gripped between
her teeth, while emitting
a constant stream of baby talk,
keeping the trying toddler
on a verbal leash.
Sigh with relief
as silence settles
over the household
and our heroine falls
into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Be terrified as she awakens
with a start, suddenly realizing
she has abandoned her boy-child,
in her vehicle, overnight!
You will be amazed!
You will be inspired!
You will be horrified!
Step right up,
Ladies and Gentleman!
This is a one-of-a-kind,
never-seen-anything-like-it
attraction, guaranteed
to entertain!
Catch it here, live!
Twenty-four/ seven,
Ladies and Gentlemen!
No two shows are alike!
Step right up folks!
Admission is free!
(Sarah S. is hosting dVerse Poetics with the theme “Come to the Circus”. Â I wrote this poem in April of 2016 when dreams of parenting three small children – and an oversized boy-child – kept haunting me.)
Baby
Sudden cry breaks calm –
a mother’s respite ended;
baby just woke’d up.
(RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt: Â Woke & Up)
A Child Responds
Console me
when life, upended
shuns and ridicules
let me know I’ll be alright
Step out
of picket-fence thinking,
find beauty in my uniqueness,
show me that love has no boundaries
Teach me
to treasure all that I am
even if that all is beyond
your comprehension
Grow with me
encourage exploration
demonstrate courage
in face of the unforeseeable.
(A Child Responds follows yesterday’s poem: A Mother Asks. Both poems were inspired by a post I wrote a few years back: No One Will Ever Love You)
A Mother Asks
How to receive a child
whose untimely arrival
serves only to punctuate
existing turmoil; whose
cries further entrap
a despondent mother…
How to love a child
who differs markedly
from gifted sons
from idyllic daughters
bears only resemblance
to the crime’s perpetrator
a child who lacks
the finesse so carefully
imbued in siblings –
fiery eyes and attitude,
preferring solitude of nature
to niceties of family life
How to guide this child,
this symbol of a past best left
behind, this burgeoning woman
defying all expectations –
this enigmatic burden?
(Follow up to this poem is: Â A Child Responds)
A Bee’s Perspective
A bee, caught
in a violent draught,
collides with woman
her body a salty
concrete wall
of frenzy, she is rigid,
obsessed, unspoken rage
emanating from her pores –
a gale force spiral, woman-made
vortex threatening the sanctity
of her contrived domesticity
Normally, she would swat at him –
is aware of the potential for venom
delivered via puncture – cannot pull
herself out of the vacuum of fixation
eyes riveted, hands locked on video
controls, breath shallow, heart pounding
a rabid diatribe of self – loathing:
useless woman,
irresponsible,
neglectful,
unworthy,
guilty,
fat
with each beat the tempest grows
perceptibly, the bee breaks free,
encircles the figure of a lone man
bent over a fragrant cup of brew,
is dismissed by a distracted swat
lazily careens upward, buzzing
past a sleeping child, and settling
on a sweet sticky cheek, startling
its owner, who lashes out then rises
unsteady legs toddling in search
of Momma! , the whine a catalyst,
piercing his mother’s mania –
her instincts now cat-like, body
pouncing past the insolent insect,
arms reaching towards pudgy limbs
thrusting forward into loosely
attached guard rails, now plunging
the bee surveilles the scene –
a final circuitous flight before
finding escape, the drone of his wings
a testament to the glory of being a bee.
(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write a poem which exemplifies simultaneity.  A Bee’s Perspective first appeared in May, 2017.)
A Poem in Three Voices
Page three! Father would say
whenever she opened mouth
to speak – inevitable tale waiting
I just want you to hear me,
I remember feeling, to know
that my words have meaning
You get all your needs met;
it’s why I work so hard, now
don’t bother me, get along…Â
She learned to hold things in,
to refrain from long passages,
practiced needing no one.
Dear diary, why does everyone
hate me? What have I done,
and why do I feel so alone …?
You hide away in that room
of yours, ignoring your mother
and me; what’s wrong with you?
 She shrugs, picks up her purse
and heads out the door, school
is almost finished, then freedom.
Left home today; so happy to be
away; hope my roommates like
me, hope I don’t ruin it for us.Â
Just called to see if you’re okay,
your mother and I worry; let
us know if you need anything…
But she’d stop needing long ago –
shut down in the formative years,
when rejection defined esteem.
(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write a poem in three voices.)
Parental Passage
Carefully we construct
security for offspring,
add luxuries to entertain,
accommodate growth
with additions, play host
to revolving-door friends.
And yet, we are graded
on performance – met
or unmet expectations –
help up against a stack
of other super parents –
silhouettes of perfection.
Still, we celebrate growing
aspirations, sprouting family,
ignore the slanders, and ease
into age with a tad of kook,
or wild inappropriateness –
all expressions of our love.
One Woman's Quest 