My Mother’s Gift
Like and eagle, her wisdom lifts me above the height of clouds
I rest on the strength of her wings
‘Till she gently tips them and allows me to fall
And be caught up again
The wind rushes through me, but she is there
A wild song, a pierced cry
An albatross grips my weary wings
His guiltful eyes dig deep in mine
I spin from the sky as his grip holds tight
Earth and sky, earth and sky
The wind rushes past, like knives in my ears
They whisper of my sudden end
The clouds now mock my decent
White from above, their blackened bellies rumble in laughter
Earth, no green thing can I see
Her deserts beckon my fall
And all at once, I hear an eagle’s call
Neither frantic nor vexed, but clear and gentle and firm
And I look, and it is she: Wisdom
Flying ever near, she returns a loving gaze
The clouds seem to melt in shame
The lifting of my head, the albatross
He can hold me no more
My gaze is steady on her, the whiteness of her wings
Another gentle call, she has said so much more in deed than ever in word
And now, I hold her in eager regard
But this time, she turns, and does not swoop under
She looked, and her gaze called me to her
So I stretched my wings
I moved upon her loving gaze
‘Till earth was covered by the white of clouds
One day I will fly and she will be near
But closer in heart than sight or sound
And on that day, when I throb for her presence
I will look in my heart and see all she has stowed
For her gifts will never pass, forever they will dwell
So richly inside, so gently they will guide
My heart beats, a rhythm of her wisdom
She is inside
Day by day, I will grow to soar like her
Day by day, my visage will look more like hers
Through the wind, the eagle leads me high
From sky to earth the albatross bears me down
No sooner have I fallen, the eagle is there
And from darkness to light she led me near
She will leave, but with me will her strength remain
About this poem
I had a challenging childhood with two abusive fathers. Unfortunately, much of the abuse was verbal/emotional and often cut me hard. It was my mother, however, who refused to let me believe that I was worthless. She instilled in me a sense of value. My mother was the one person in my life whose love never left me. She taught me to love, to forgive, to respect, and to never give up even when everything around me told me to do the opposite. I’m spite of circumstances, she never let me throw a pity party for myself but, through her own example, she showed me how to thrive in the bleakest valleys. I love her dearly and wrote this poem for her. more »
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"My Mother’s Gift" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 12 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/145918/my-mother’s-gift>.
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