I awoke with an Ode to Mothers swirling around my head.
T'would be a shame to not get it out on "paper."
Ode to Mothers
Her heart swells with love,
at the peace of her child,
the love and the grace,
like the wings of a dove.
Utter fear can take grasp,
for this life in her hands,
needs protecting and guidance,
through unsure lands.
Like a ball of clay,
soft for shaping.
Easy now, still escaping;
Escaping from a life before,
a guardian now,
lighting the way evermore.
No more thoughts of only her,
A true mother's heart will surely concur.
She will get lost in this mother world,
her spirit thrown and emotions hurled.
Feeding, changing, teaching, growing,
Failing, falling, grasping, knowing,
Asking, praying, getting stuck and flowing,
Opening wide and lying curled.
Laundry, dishes, counters and floors,
always there for the cleaning.
Lessons, manners, control and life,
for her to teach their meaning.
Tears will come and tears will go,
from mom and babe alike.
Anger and selfishness will surely rise,
inner strength her only dike
that keeps her harmful feelings in,
though sometimes spilling over.
At times she must invite them in,
like a simple game of Red Rover.
Always sure to let them pass,
to let them break on through.
Always sure to apologize,
to let them know she's human too.
And guilt, oh the guilt!
Is she going to damage them?
She must remember on true thing,
sometimes we trip on skirts too long,
and then we add a hem.
Refining, always refining,
'tis the growing human's way.
A mother gets the sacred task
of doing so every moment, every day.
She raises a son to be a man,
what a lofty task indeed.
Gentle and kind, compassionate, generous,
in a world full of hate and greed.
A world that measures it's success,
by cars and bank accounts,
is not a true way to be,
she softly and firmly recounts.
Her daughter will be strong, she says,
standing firm on her two feet,
not bound by outward worldly things,
but the kind of beauty that does not fleet.
No matter what her outward look,
her heart will shine on through.
Keep it pure, and keep it full,
Is all she has to do.
The child is here to teach her,
how to open her heart wide,
to see the wonder and the glory
adulthood doesn't often provide.
Her child, unlike her,
is exactly in this moment.
She fails, oh she fails,
but there is always room for atonement.
Resilient and forgiving,
all children are as so.
She can learn a thing or two from them
if she can only let herself go.
Forgive oneself and strive.
It's the only way forward.
Let those ugly parts die,
and the beauty spring upward.
To all the mothers out there,
you really are an angel,
chosen to bring these children forth,
To them, you shine like Rigel.
You shape us and you teach us,
in all your error and your flaw.
Fall, get up, and shine your light
We truly are in awe.