A mother’s tale

From there to here: a mother’s tale                   (after Bilbo Baggins)

Ah the bittersweet of memory,

Soft cheek and baby arms,

Delight, attachment – always in my sight

Pull on my instincts,

Make me smile and coo –

A baby you

I nurtured you, my son,

Your body and your mind,

Intelligent design.

I gave myself – it’s what a mother does

Her heart and time she sows

To see you grow

Now nothing can remove

The pleasure and the pain

Of all the years of youth,

Of all we lost and gained.

I will not let them go –

The photographs, the smiles 

Despite the storm clouds overhead

The many weary miles

For you are now a man

So near – and yet so far

Separation, individuation

The apron strings are cut

A severed umbilical cord

And I let go

It must be so.


About Sally Ann

True-story teller - words and pictures
This entry was posted in Mothering, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to A mother’s tale

  1. Jessa says:

    This is beautiful.

  2. Jane says:

    SA – when you write like this you reach deep into my heart, touching places no one else can (but Him). Your grief is my grief – differently. I begin to understand the wisdom of Mary’s ‘pondering’. Gracious is He who lets us grow them. One of my favourite mystics said this: “He carries us within himself in love, and labours full term…” We walk in his footprint. J x

  3. Mavis Andradez says:

    Beautifully written as always. Such deep feelings expressed.

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