She stood behind me as i looked at trouble coming up ahead
"don't worry about it" she softly whispered
I felt bigger and stronger.
Is she my mother or my mate? I do not know.
She held my head in her arms,
she ran her fingers through my hair,
and from their tips seeped peace and warmth i never knew
right through my skin and settled.
is she my mother, or my mate? i really do not know.
She has a heartbeat just like mine, and breath..
more frequent when i'm with her, yet
it seems to me her steps are firmer, wider
than my crawl so feeble, fickle.
is she my mother or my mate? i cannot tell.
monochromatic is my world she brings some color to it
she's music in the silent night but wait, doesn't that sound familiar?
Is she my mother or my mate? I'm lost here.
Naivety? perhaps. I don;t know why
i think she's both smart and wise,
the world seems more consistent
when i see it through her eyes.
Is she my mother or my mate? :S
although at 23 i stand, relatively big and tall
i'm quite convinced i don't exceed 5 years of age at all!!
so sorry love, i've nothing to offer
than some messed up poetry
perhaps an occasional card or flower
but more than that you'll find elsewhere
i hope
bye bye for now...it s my bedtime
2 comments:
Good Night...WoW...
are the roles of mother and mate so completely seperate and unrelated? I remember one woman's advising us that the sooner that we realized out husbands needed us to mother them, the happier we all would be! Not as the only aspect of marriage, but a definite one to remember! (btw, she/they are happy and healthy and have a very successful marriage, and one of great mutual repect and independence)
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