Mother’s Day

Just when I imagine
I can take it no longer—
must walk out the door with nothing
but my heart and the longing to breathe
without the heavy stone of obligation
crushing my fragile frame—
you save me
with hands centering my face
and a kiss on the mouth
wet and abandoned of any limits
on your love.

Boy child,
if it were not for you
I would have fled long ago
with my books, pictures, pens
and carry away those who share my cells—
my identity boldly stripped from my soul
and worn on the faces of all my children.

All our cells rearrange
and reposition themselves daily
for survival Darwin never imagined.
The spaces between each moment
filled with the courage to stay
when everything tells me—
panics at the realization
I have missed the last train again.

This day before your birth
I must look you in the beautiful blue
of your honest eyes and forgive myself
for making more plans to travel anywhere
but here, imagining another life
free to suffer alone.