I've been thinking about family and our emotional bonds a bit lately. Motherhood is often dressed up in pink bows and seems to be seen as something to be argued over, and taken for granted, but that love that you get when you become a mother is huge and possibly violent and all encompassing. Personally, I've only become a mother through having babies, but there are other ways and I'm sure that magically weird strong relationships develop in those too.
Anyway, before I start trying to ensure everyone is included I'll stop, because this is about me and how I feel about my kids. Perhaps there will be things in here you'll recognise.
The picture above is of me with my last baby, the one who was born in bloood and flashing lights and drama, as referred to in my last poem, Return.
I read this poem out today at my writers group, and thought I'd read it for you too. Click below for the recording.
Love
There’s
a fierceness to it.
This
gentle, patient, physical love
for
you, forged within the very core of me.
You
who bring magical changes.
Demonstrating
from the start
that
love, that life, that creation
is
more than wanting.
It
is grown in constant discomfort
in
worry and joy.
It
is pain and fear and out of control
and
loathing things while missing them.
It
is borne and born in blood
in
pain and ecstasy.
It
is nourished with enforced patience
while
you hold my hand and catch my eye.
And
your love for my love for your love is
climbing
me. And kissing fierce kisses
and
needing me to lay just so, and taking
over
my body and all of my mind
so
that even as you walk away
my
thoughts stay with you.
You,
who are beyond mine
and
totally your own.
©
Cara L McKee 11/9/16
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