Poems — motherhood

I am getting old. I know my worth.
I know my purpose in this world.
My life is fulfilled, my eyes are ready to rest.
Yet I am still sowing, even if I don’t see the harvest.
Woman's work is never done!

In my blood I carry so many of them.
I can't even begin to fathom how many,
and how different each one of them had been.
You can see them in my gestures,
in my wince,
in my speech,
in my eyes,
in my bones,
in my attitudes...
I am them and they are me.
The good seeds they'd sown...

Surrounded by green fields, surrounded by water
A boat on a hill, with a sail full of wind
If the sun does come out, tell it I've been waiting
Waiting for its rays to warm up my skin

Not longing for the day to lower the sails
It's scary, I know, when silence falls in
Will it hurt to stay in this stillness forever
Or will it bring peace to the thunder within

You - a handful of ash, life lives without asking
Yes, they will leave when the time is right
And you'll be there for them, should they ever need it
With a kettle, and a blanket, and your...