Motherhood Poem (in many parts)

Part 3: Childhood

Mother I see you

wanting desperately to trust the world

let her walk to school

both ways

like you did in the olden days...

but is there enough to trust

in this time upside down

on the edge of colossal bust?


I see you in your gaping silence

after morning chaos -

standing still on the beam

between their raging river

and your slowly returning stream...

trying to reclaim your headwaters

long too dry it seems.


I see your thoughtful wall charts

and tenacious tries to keep

meaningful ties to human reciprocity,




and in-person empathy

as phones and drones and screens and things

creep their way into time and home…

How did this happen? you say…

with honest woe,

and then, yes, check your own phone...

human too -

fed by the witnesses there

who express some care

even if through a click or two.


And then there’s the days

released outside

deep breath into dirt.

Creek dam construction

underlog inspection

fairy house detection

and mud milk concoction.

Your family is sweetly scooped up

by earth arms

and taken into the great gift…

the nature of nature is to give.

It is complete.

Permission to live,

guided only by flow and their own feet.

“This” you whisper and melt into the sun.