Mother's Day

In her day, Traveler was

as fertile

as Mother Earth,

giving life to

four small voyagers,

who grew like saplings

off her sturdy trunk.

She fed them with laughter

and snippets of moon,

(for wonder),

and soon

they grew beyond her,

reaching for

an infinity of sky.

Now, Traveler

reflects and remembers,

basking in the glory

of their

exuberant

flowering.

Happy Mother's Day,

to the four special beings who

made me 

a Mother

originally written in April 2011, and reposted here for Mother's Day in the Poetry Pantry

My 44th Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day, to all the great moms out there.

I just calculated this is my 44th mother's day. Wow! This is the Big Four, above, this past Christmas. I dont know where all these six foot tall people came from. I remember once, when the kids were still at home, using the line from On Golden Pond, about "What use are dwarves if they dont Do Chores?" and my kids laughingly pointing out that I was the shortest one in the family. Which explains a lot, come to think of it :)

I have been reflecting this morning on how no one comes into our lives by accident, whether it be family, friends, acquaintances. Every person has lessons to teach us and this applies especially to children, who teach us much more than we ever teach them. 

Through thick and thin, laughter and tears, we have hung together, and they have most profoundly been my teachers, and fellow wayfarers on The Path.

Two of my kids, Lisa and Jeff, are very talented writers, and it occurred to me this morning to post one  of the beautiful Mother's Day poems Jeff has written me over the years, as some of you have told me you enjoy his writing. No manufactured card could be as beautiful as these words my son penned for me.

Beloved Mother,
whenever I return
homeward in my
dependence,
I feel secure.
Secure enough
to take the wings
your shelter and the fates
matured,
and dwell in flight
upon the revolving winds
of dream.
Oh fantasy!
Oh other birds
lilting on the sky!
I feel drawn to you,
feel my mother's smile
upon my back.
Will she see me
dance across
those distant hills of fire?
I turn and smile
upon you, Mother,
then try my way.
Yet my compass,
you should know,
is ever turned
homeward.

by Jeff Siddhartha Crazy-Horse Marr

See kids? What a poem! What an honor to be the mother
of each of these  four amazing beings. And to my two other kids, Stephanie's Gord, and the adorable Zenny, who is married to Jon. A full house when we all get together, with the four grandkids and my little great-grandson........and all of the attendant dogs:) I am blessed.

44 mother's days,
going by so fast,
days of unbearable beauty,
unbearable sorrow.
No greater gift can I ask
of life
than that my children stay,
alive and thriving,
through all of my
tomorrows.

Obelisk Moon

[image from flickr.com]

[I am posting this in response to Poets United Thursday Think Tank prompt: Family. I wrote it some years ago the night before Mother's Day. I am happy to report all are doing very well now. But when it comes to a poem about family, this was ours at one time. We loved our way through to calmer seas. I now understand an obelisk is a tower, not this pregnant-shaped moon. But I love the sound of it, so will leave it be.]

Obelisk moon
suspended in the sky
like a seven-months
pregnant woman
gliding by,
four times I sailed
proud and serene
like you,
small voyagers
aswim in a sea of dreams
all safe within.
I tacked and drifted,
set the mainsail fast
those sunny days
we thought would
for forever last.

How I dreamed
such simple dreams
of happiness:
the future
such a whole
and shining thing
life's songs
all waiting there
for them to sing
joyously
like laughing lovers
in the sun
and be happier than I
when I was young.

Now one son laughs
and lives his life
and one son weeps
in a maze from which
he cannot
find his way.
One daughter struggles
but goes on,
one daughter sweeps
from depth to wave-peak
in a single day
four small precarious
passengers
hanging on
without the chance
to choose
to a mother
not completely here
they are afraid
to lose.

And I?
My heart still sails
through seas sublime
my compass pointed
firmly towards
a hope
that I would keep
but all the time
a nightwatchman
lives on board
who never sleeps
and I wait
for that call
that knock in the night
to sound again
that is my world
come crashing down
in pain.

My heart lives now
four other hearts
inside.
Their journeys
become
my journey
and it is
a bumpy ride.

32 mother's days
sailing by so fast
on this sea of hope
where nothing ever lasts
days of unbearable beauty
unbearable sorrow
the best gift:
my children,
all alive
tomorrow.