A poem I love

Love After Love


The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the others welcome, and say, sit here. Eat
You will love again the stranger who was yourself.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, the desperate
notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life
- Derek Walcott

Today

 

Raising boys has to be one of the most interesting experiences I have ever had. What is beautiful is watching the slow and steady bond of brotherhood. The friendship, competition, protectition, love and aggression that my two boys have is amazing. I love that both of my boys have the biggest smiles, kindest eyes, strongest wills and sofest souls. They truly are a gift to me.

Motherhood sorrow

I thought it would be natural.
Drum. Drum. Drum.
That’s what they say these things are for.
I found out that aint true when it comes to you.
I tried. I tried. I tried.
I longed for the mercy of nursing you
I desired the intimacy,
The space that belonged to me and baby.
There was none. None. None.
Long episodes, sleepless nights as I tried.
Baby crying, crying, crying.
And My heart laid in my chest dying, dying, dying.
No one explained to me I couldn’t feed my baby.
No one told me the guilt, the shame, the pain.
And then to my horror, it wasn’t just my baby shouting at me-hungry
It was other mothers.
Why aren’t you breastfeeding?
Why don’t you try harder?
What are you doing wrong?
Breastfed babies are better.
I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.
My body wont produce milk. Take pills. Supplement.
Never a compliment. Supplement. Supplement. Maybe I will forget.
I would hold him, my baby boy, deep longing in my breasts, deep longing in my chest
And I would cry, tears falling on his face,as the milk of formula took my place
And my chest would heave and the sobs would come steady like a drum. Drum. Drum.
And I would come to believe I had failed you
Not because I did but because other cruel women weren’t careful in how they would say,
Why aren’t you breastfeeding your baby? It’s the best way !
And in my heart I would know if I could have I would have
I tried. I tried. I cried. I cried.
There is still a part of me that closes tightly when I speak of breastfeeding baby.
I still have that pang of self doubt, the guilt tucked away.
A mother’s guilt her secret scream because she couldnt produce milk
No one can understand the hurt that sits in your chest beating you like a
Drum. Drum. Drum.
But sometimes the hurt is the glue that keeps you from coming undone.
Drum. Drum,drum. Drum.

Remembering

 

Baby Ethan

Metamorphosis

 

Metamorphosis

Once she emerged there was no way to turn around, to run away, or to pretend she did not exist.
As she came all I could do was spread my wings and fly…….

Tell me your secret…..
I cannot.
Why not?
Because they are buried too deeply…
Where is too deeply?
In my core.
In your core? That is central and not too deep at all.
You cannot understand the core of my being!
The depths of my soul. My immense yearnings, the longing, the losing of control.
So your core is the center of your being?
Yes, IT is!
It is a place where my soul rests
Or did you bury it there?
Why would you accuse me of the burial of my soul?
Because you wont dig.
I will DIG!
You wont journey.
I will Journey
You haven’t started
I did start!!
I danced….
And then you forgot
I sang ……
And then you tucked the pleasure away.
I painted….
Where is that painting?
That is irrelevant!
I am writing to you,
You are writing to you…
Okay, I see
Do you?
Can you?
I can, I promise
What do you see?
I imagine grace…
What type of Grace?
Fluid Grace….Breathable Grace….
Does this make you feel something deep inside?
It touches something, sparks something, it asks for space
How do you give grace space?
Surrender
And who do you surrender to?
God
And how is that accomplished?
Through faith
And what is faith?
Something that pulls from far, and beyond reality
Really? What is reality?
OHHH good one, I have yet to discover reality
Is there one?
I tend to doubt it
Then what do you fear? What do you fight, what hurts?
Life!
Life, I can’t believe you fear life. Isn’t it suppose to create the opposite?
Maybe joy.
Yes, life creating joy….I can believe it.
Do you believe it enough to have faith in it?
I am not sure.
Then you don’t believe it?
I do believe it, I want to believe it
Really do you want to believe it or does it just sound like something you want to believe in??
No, I want it too deeply, dangerously, loudly.
I want to believe
How do you feel now?
I am feeling better
Better as in how?
Better as in soothed
Soothed, I like it. Why soothed?
Because I feel an opening, a potential a longing a desire.
I am seeing shifts, seeking abundance, and I am believing.
What is the believing you are doing?
I am being not doing…..
What are you being?
STILL

Completely still, and then in this stillness I have heard the essence of the butterfly as she sings in expansion, in growth as she marries her purpose and takes flight in love.

Love each other

Take care to remember who you are even when it hurts to do so because it is in yourself that you will truly step into life......LOVE Loudly!

 

The Days of Summer

 

 

 

 


Children create their summertime, the way summertime creates the child.