Monday, October 15, 2007

Mother Sway

I move in unison
to the peaceful motion
of a young mother
standing several pews before me,
her child holds her mother's face,
a small hand on each cheek,
and looks into her own eyes.
She reaches small puckered lips
toward her mother's forehead.

My own sway began
in the fourth month,
a subtle, almost unnoticeable
side-to-side movement,
arms reaching down
over my extending belly,
hands clasped beneath it,
cradling the incubation
as God performed his miracle
on that eldest child.
The fetus, tiny at best.

Perhaps it's practice
for the sleepy hours
of rocking and cradling to come,
or perhaps it's the silent,
nervous anticipation of
the arrival of a new life.

Whatever its origin or purpose,
it just begins.
While standing in church
or waiting in line,
the gentle sway
rocks and comforts
the unknown life
in my womb.
That time in life
passed for me,
my child now too large
to hold, to rock, to cradle,
but love grown
from a seed
to a towering redwood
since life in my womb.

Now 13, some days
she needs abundant hugs
and reassurances,
and other days,
she's torn
between maturity
and a kiss
to her mother's forehead.

Mother sway sits now
on a shelf in my heart
for use at another time,
for grandchildren,
or perhaps
to simply participate
in the rite of passage
to keep rhythm
with the sway
of a young mother.


real injun said...

i did read some poetry about many different things written by many people.. honestly, this is one of the most gracious, pleasent, smooth flowin poem of life.. and 'beginning of life'..

liked this a lot!

Anonymous said...

That's so nice of you to say--thank you! I have to admit that this is my personal favorite too.

Again, not sure about that real injun thing...I guess that's your sense of humor showing..