Here's my bit...written after my oldest was born....not so much poetry, just flowing thoughts and joy.
The Love of A Mother
It was as though I was never alive before you, as if not breathing. Your birth, on that brisk November morning was the day my heart began to beat.
You came out of my body with all the might and power I had in me to help you come forth. You, like a tiny fluttering gentle butterfly, leaving your warm cacoon. Helpless, precious, perfect. We both came to life in unison on that morning. You, an extension of my body, my soul, my heart.
I held you safely within my mother-womb for so many months, praying for your health and sending you my intense feelings of love, joy and comfort. As you slept soundly to the rhythm of my heartbeat, you grew from my love.
When this November morning arrived, I fought like a mother bear protecting her feeble cub to bring you unharmed into this looming world. To bring you to safety and security that only my loving arms could offer you, straight from the same peace and warmth that my womb had. For, whether it is in womb or in arms, there is no difference to a mother. Only that now I could watch your angel-like face peer up into my eyes, and that you could know from my smile how very much I adored, embraced, wanted and needed you to be my child.
But until I saw you for myself I knew I never truly breathed. I don't recall who I was or how I felt without you in my world. I was a mere woman.
Because of you I became a powerful voracious creature filled with the forceful love only a mother can feel. I have cherished being your mother from the moment I knew you were conceived and planted inside of my body, my divine flower.
I lived my days to help you grow peacefully, to keep you healthy and strong and safe. I watered you with all that I could to do so; love, joy, peace, harmony. I counted the moments until I could see you, hold you, feel you, smell you.
I live now for watching you grow. Ever fast, from my petite miracle of pink skin and dark hair, so dependent upon me for everything, into the beautiful, treasured walking, talking little version of me.
This has been the highlight of my existence. I could die happy today, if I were not needed tomorrow to be your mother.
You are my blooming flower, my shining star. You were born as a result of the light of a thousand moons to rest in the crevasse of my arms. I nurture you at my breast, and have since the hour of your birth.
At that time you suckled me for closeness, familiarity, and security, as the first droplets of my sweet milk began to flow for you. Throughout the months as I watched you nestle into me ravenous, arms and legs flailing recklessly in anger, needing the warm white ocean that flowed from my full mother-breasts.
And now, my little toddling talkative spirited soul, you boisterously sing the joys of my nurturing, and can ask for it by name when in need. Whether it is for comfort or a taste.
The spiritual sense of self you have cultivated in me, your mother, has brought me to places I have never dreamed possible. I look at you with teary eyes and I feel fire and ice combined in a hue of stunning glory.
You, my precious child, are the whole of my world, enveloping me at every turn. I know no other life now, nor do I ever want to. I live to be your mother.
Everytime I hold you close, smell your soft skin, I pause, and pray to never forget this precise moment in time. I dread losing you to all life has to offer, selfishly of course, because that is exactly what I want you to strive for and receive.
My eyes brim with tears as each day passes onto the next, and you age, one step closer, to independence. I pray you will always need me. I want you to forever remember these earliest moments in your childhood, somehow, or be able to go back in your mind's eye and recollect these feelings you receive from me now; security, love, peace, adoration, warmth, happiness, bliss.
I want you to carry these feelings with you throughout your life, and call upon them in times of need. I will always make sure that you do. For you will always be my precious child, born to me on that brisk November morning.
I will always be thankful that God chose you to be my child, and honoured me in this way. That He saw me fit to raise you in my image. I am privileged to even know the warmth of your hugs, the kindness in your delicate kisses, the absolute joy in your voice, and the gentle nature of your touch.
You are my child, my vision, and my delight. And for that, I am so grateful.