Motherhood

While waiting for her invitation

To The Mothering Squad

She dreams a little, and lives a little more.

She’s growing a heart so open

Love shines on through a granite mist

Digging out the darkness,

The despair that makes her sick.

She’s kneading early passions

To a strong and potent state

And devouring life’s temptations

Before she procreates.

She’s reading like a wildfire

With flames of curiosity

And running like a panther

Raw and wild and free.

She’s listening to her body

Her energy, her beat

So she can understand

Make strong, respect, replete.

And if the invitation never comes

Remains unwritten, gets waylaid
She’ll mourn a little, then live a little more.