Magpie Tales is a blog “dedicated to the enjoyment of poets and writers, for the purpose of honing their craft, sharing it with like-minded bloggers, and keeping their muses alive and well.” Each week, it offers an image as a writing prompt.
Go here to read what other writers have written in response to this prompt.
If we become the mother
we wanted, our children
grow the roots and wings
of our lost early yearnings,
we wanted, our children
grow the roots and wings
of our lost early yearnings,
Our daughters become
the women we wish we were,
our sons the men we dreamed.
But too often we succumb
to the echo of her voice,
trapped in the tangle
of a cord never cut.
There is no burying our mothers,
though we lay them deep.
They live in us one way or other,
whether we heed or not.
Beautiful poem, and so very true.
True that they live in us, one way or another. Even those of us who lost their mom’s before we barely knew them. Lost mine young, I remember bits about her and stories told by family, but mostly I remembered her baking, her pies and cookies. And I, in turn, learned early how to bake as she did, made it my goal to hold onto and emulate the best things that I remembered. I have a son, and can only hope that when I am gone, he will emulate the best of me.
This will resonate with me for some time …..
Ah so very true…