Ooh Child.

Sometimes I need just a bit more light.
A boost, a bump, a gentle push...
It's usually the sun that saves me, ushers me along.
Can't help but make a bee-line toward the gleam -
Love to sit on a stoop beneath it,
rush toward its shine on the seat of a bus
my own musical chairs.
Morning prize
to sit on it,
in it.
To be within it.
Its warmth reminds me, reassures me,
Everything's OK.

It is.

Mother's Day was sweet.
But can't say I didn't wake with that gnawing ache -
The One that shadows on
days like these.
Persistent pain that nudges and tugs -
pulls at my shirt tails, slows my step...
Asking asking, disbelieving,

Where is the man that gave me the girl?

The Girl
that leans on appliances and tells me the earth is round,
that the North Pole is real,
the sun is fire.
Loves the scent on my wrist, breathes it to calm her down.
Informs me that Flamingo knees bend backward,
makes predictions,
and tells me "the message" of a story...
Says "that's not really my thing" as she selectively shops,
mutters Jesus Christ under her breath
and sleeps late only on weekdays.

Oh how she makes living so very worthwhile.

And then I am reminded of everyone I've got,
and know his shadow need not be dark.
He's the one that stumbles my sandals on the sidewalk cracks,
but makes sure I don't fall through.
Shakes me softly out of my stupor - as I shuffle through petals,
that paint the ground pink.
Such beauty in this Mother's Day haze.
And then it's Adam's hands I reach for, that hold mine tight.
Steady my heart, make me feel alright.

This was not the motherhood I had imagined,
but it is beautiful, all the same.