Poetry
Mother?
Dear Daughter
I suckled you at my breast
For your first year - longer than the rest!
I named you with the wisest of thoughts
I bore you in pain, your father cut the cord...
Your face was blue, I know, I held you back...
I fed you, bathed, clothed and guided you..
Now how can I know that you're on the right track?
Can I be sure that you're ready to be free
Of me?
This role of mother sits uneasy with me now -
I too have felt the flow of love from you.
But I've had enough years of being in charge -
I'm ready to move on.
Before I go, I hope you know, that you are dearly loved
Always have been. So lets understand that I must resign
As Mum
But can we still be chums?
Dear Mum
I'm not sure yet I really know us apart -
I feel restraint, a box I've grown too large for -
This suffocating feeling confuses me.
I wish what was yours and what mine were clear
I wish your motherliness would not swerve
In the attempts I make to find my curve
That sweep of love that we expect
From mothers when we finally leave the nest.
For good.
Cuckoo'd I am and apt to trepidation
To face alone without protection
Birth, love, death and all the rest.
I never really understood before
That what was me was different to the core.
Now I understand that I too must resign
As Daughter
Of course, I'll be your friend for ever after.
© Sophie Brown 31st July 2003