fieldnotes on motherhood, vol. 9

like absorbing
a hundred bombs a day —
a thousand —
with the very core
of your being,
into the very synapses
of your soul
but then later,
at bedtime,
the folding up small
into one another
inhabiting the same space
air
being
returning to the same
home base.

like sneaking past
the monster’s den
on the tippy toes
of your breath,
waiting for the tremble
in the earth
bracing for the roar
but then after,
the storm past,
light spilling from your smile
from your eyes
melting the memory
of colder hours.

like trying to
tame the lion
again,
and again
knowing that it can’t help the truth
of its own wildness,
that it will bite the hand
that feeds it
but then at night,
your voice in the darkness,
calling out
for solace
for security
for love
calling out for me.

that’s what i’ll tell you
when you ask
what it was like
when you were two.

– a.
december 13, 2016

Tags: life, motherhood, toddlerhood, truth, womanhood