blossoms: a poem about motherhood

Posted on Thursday, June 12, 2014

today i harvest cilantro from my garden

kale and basil too

these flowering vegetables, herbs, just weeks ago

buried beneath the earth


i think of the soil

the nurturing required to care for such miracles

her steady, quiet presence

the way she cradles their delicate destiny in her arms


hunched over

i think of my baby boy

asleep upstairs, wind rushing in

and out of his dreams


just months ago he was a seed

his life based on hope and belief

unseen, yet so very tended to


i think of the task i was given:

to be the soil carrying up his heart

solidifying ground for his feet

tending to the weeds that hinder

and standing back for other creatures

to do their work


we mothers are the quietness in the background

the dirty, tired, overused earth that gives and gives

until we are merely crumbled bits of clay

holding up blossoms

the very beings we think of constantly

as we watch from below, above

and all around their delicate existence


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