The mother I thought I'd be.
Poem written in the current of healing. est April 2021
A construct Of my mind Perfection in patience Draped in grace A creation so ideal No human could place So why is it so? Why do I reject the human? In her wholeness? The mother I am. I forget the good Sight pinned on the bad Blinders to the whole truth Of a beautifully imperfect motherhood. Show up lady Messes and all Imperfection on display Authenticity on call Teaching humanity And standing tall. Your emotions are parts Parts of a whole Layers and links, stories and scenes A painting of an ever changing image. Of a soul Of me. Free in their own being Not trapped in a cage. Making their own mind a prison. Instead of a blank page. Write your own story So your daughters can write theirs. Full and big, take up your space. Do not plead your own case. Take it. It’s yours. But show more of you The edges, the cracks the rips Show how you put it all back together With authenticity and grit. Your presence alone. Showing to fall but never give up. To take each step in kindness for self. To start a new page. Setting the stage. Planting a seed. To be a catalyst for change. Own it all so your girls aren’t afraid to own theirs. -Rae Delisle written April 2021
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