A Mother's Day

 

A Mother’s Day

 

As I glide along I think of my mother.
So intensely of late I feel as if I’m driven.
Driven by the dreams of her and yet something else
That I do not know and cannot understand.

 

I go deeper and deeper and it feels so cool.
Dark is this place…a place of solitude.
And pressure I feel and it is so good and true.
For I am of this world, but not of the land.

 

I am happy this day as I move along and play.
Not one that I must see, at least that I know.
I rise and I drink in the sun and world above me.
Beautiful…I feel so wonderful, so filled with life. 

 

 

I hasten my pace so I may jump and twist in the air.
Such fun it is to fly though I’m not of the sky.
Even so why the urges drive I do not understand.
They command me to move on, they cut like a knife.

 

North do I travel for reasons I do not know.
To a place in the sun with beaches of beautiful sands.
A place I have only been once but remember so well.
A place of new beginnings and rest for weary souls.

 

I push forward with great speed as I feel that very need.
In my being a new sensation….time…is so important.
I can feel the water as it slides over my body and the
Storm of turbulence where there was water but, now holes.

 

I have arrived in the place I was programmed to be.
I await the arrival of something I have no way of knowing.
Then I feel it….the stirring within me something,
A feeling so foreign, yet familiar some how.

 

The time has come for a miracle to occur.
Both pain and joy as I realize why I have come.
I twist and I turn, I dive deep and come shallow.
I push with great force as it is happening now.

 

With great effort and pain it appears at last.
The tiny beautiful whale that has grown inside me.
I swim and I push to complete this task given.
A mother to join with the flesh of my line.

  

With one final twist he comes forth in a flash.
Still in the blood stained water not certain of his fate.
It happens so quickly as to take me by surprise.
He is moving and swimming he has given the sign.

  

 

 

 He rises to breathe on his own for the first time.
I watch him so small yet smooth and with a glimpse
Of the majestic and powerful son he will become.
For I am his mother and he will always be mine.

 

My son!
 

Reviews

[Mark]

I enjoyed the way you put us into the head of "another" Mother, Wade. If I could offer a single critique, I might suggest incorporating more allegory and metaphor into your work. The several of your pieces I have thus far read seem fairly straightforward accountings, if from unexpected points of view!

[Sheila Kline]

A beautiful poem that is most fitting for this Mother's Day.
Well done!
Sheila