Motherhood
by Carmen H Gray
Spots of blood that were a scare
I was full of milk and longing
For sustaining little lives belonging
In all of those early sunshine days
Of playfulness
Of exhaustion, too
And the middle years
Became filled with tears and cuts
The broken hearts
The diagnoses of the starts of illnesses
That had always lingered quietly inside
Like a spring that hadn’t yet been let to fly
And when it did
It was as if I was woke
To the world anew
The hardships grew
The steps I tripped
The moments slipped
Was I fit? For Motherhood?
How dare she be
So flawed and free
Doesn’t she know better?
Why can’t she stay as she was forever?
Contained and clipped
All neat and zipped
I heard some asked
The false smiles masked
The bullshit stationary yearning of others
I am not monochromatic in the realm of mothers
I am wider than one frequency of light
To pass on more
Than what was before
That is what those breasts knew
And that womb that held them, too
It was what my soul understood
Before the future layers of motherhood
Monarca Rising 