What is a Mother? poetry

(I am not a Mum in any sort of traditional sense, so not speaking from that place)

What is a Mother?

When she said
You’re more like me than you realise
And I know that she is right 
Jumping between all the different
hot spots of personalities 
and honing in on them 
Not feeling acceptance
A person who the memories of
Can now keep me warm at night 

The teacher, or any adult
Who says 
‘Just because you think it, doesn’t make it true’
The elders giving tax advice 
Or talking with soft eyes 
and wanting to know your
unique soul
I feel fragile and translucent
And, respectfully, not looking right
through you

The mother who talks about her sons
With such love and pride
The woman reading a poem at 
the funeral
A strong, wisdom, sometimes trapped 
inside
Generations that didn’t share with 
their kids
And let them misunderstand you
Doing what you believe is best
And being open to that not being true


My beautiful friend being united with 
her boys
Them yelling Mummy, with such love
and pride 
Calm, constant, playful, responsible
The one holding all of them
And tenderly loving them, in gentle, 
soft and kind

A Mum feeling she can’t go to the 
toilet alone
Or even stir food in a wok
All the arms that parents stretch
around the world
In treasuring and giving what, 
in that moment, is their full lot

Forgiving themselves 
and looking after themselves
cos
that’s how you offer hope
And hold their hands 
Watch as you let them go

To come right back
And be vulnerable 
And angry
And have all the feelings
Want to hide and shelter
But, knowing they are here
We are connected 
Mum is in me
I am me
And, I am beautifully human 
Natural to long for and want acceptance
And that who I am?
People will 
love ME

A person serving the coffee 
who notices the child is, now, alone
That the child seems scared, uneasy
Numb to everything
The teacher taking the child to one 
side
Asking what life is like?
What do they do at home?

The questions 
And the safety of no explosion
over a dropped glass
I’m not an accident 
Waiting to happen
But, a powerful, meaningful
Coincidence
Supposed to be
And, one day you say
something positive, or listen 
to a child
Years later,
they remember the moment
and beam

Love is, coming down to 
their level
And, realising that that level,
in many ways, is only one 
of not being able to
reach certain cupboards
There is everything
and all their depths 
Viewing the world through 
childhood eyes 
They should be listened to 
for wisdom 
(Listened to what they do, and don’t, say) 
Making your heart the perfect
place through which they can
explore the world
It’s all about the need to connect 

Children feeling deeply
Scared, looking for explanation
Curiosity springing up, welcomed
The gentleness of asking
with confidence 
and a return, without shame
Beautiful mind connecting 
and drawing stunning 
abstracts 
The voice of the older ones
Living in tiny parts of 
the little ones
Encoded in their wonderful,
powerful brains 


The dog who adores the baby sibling
and teaches how to roam
With humour and exquisite curiosity
They can be another home
An Auntie who doesn’t see 
you enough
But, when she does she cares so deeply
about what she imparts
Because she sees the value in 
the extra little bits of love
In a world of wonder
That she can show you
Overthinking because you matter
so much
Loving the moments of just being 
(Invisible pressure put upon herself)
 
You already have all that is needed

You already have her heart 

Photo by Paul Blenkhorn on Unsplash