In Me, a Mother

Writer's Cramp poem for my son, Jonah, written on my second Mother's Day as a mom.

I am your mother.

I may hold you clumsily close, my
sharp angles & skinny arms awkward,
but I hold you close anyway.

         You find a comfort in my bones
         as walls of a former residence;
         as familiar pillars echoing womb whispers…
         as fetal backdrop for acrobatic feats.

I may sing you nonsense, silly snippets
of all kinds of songs, lazily off-key
but I sing them to you anyway.

         You find a diamond in my song
         as the voice you heard awash, internal;
         as divinity, a speaker in the sky…
         as soundtrack to gestation's miracle.

I may love you with a racing heartbeat
composed of odd & syncopated rhythms,
but I love you with every heartbeat anyway.

         You find a living element in my love
         as the cycling pulse of ocean tides;
         as habitat for emotion magic, undefined…
         as something inside you that can never die.

I will always be your mother.