Mothered

soulfood

To dip your toe into the mystic,

the divine,

the ephemeral

is to lose your breath.

To calm the seas of your would be plans.

To adjust your binoculars to single vision.

 

 

It is knowing that you are not in control

but refusing to surrender.

It is begging for mercy and sustenance.

 

It is midnight prayers for

The lessons to get easier

And for you to remain open enough to learn,

To do,

To allow space.

To move on to the next.

 

The metaphysical elephant in our room

Is your mother.

Is she part of me?

Did you attract that?

Or she first?

 

I’m scared to answer these questions.

This notion, spoken out loud,

for the first time sent chills up my spine,

sent fingers thrusting into ears

an audible, “Don’t say that”.

 

I’m not sure that we’ll ever be ready to know or

Fully entertain the possibility.

If it is so.

Then know that the true love,

The purest of energy,

Never dies.

It lives on and it returns.

 

You said once, not to say that I loved you unconditionally

for it’s a love that only a parent can claim.

Well, I do.

And it doesn’t scare me

it never will.

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