Today is Mother’s Day, a day to acknowledge what is already so closely knit into my heart through the thread of generations. My own Mother’s loving soul, the birth of my children and the astonishment of them now, such lovely young men, older than myself at that time when they entered this earth. To complete the cycle, my son and his wife are gifted with their second child, a baby girl, whom I recently held in my arms. This poem came in the interlude of no time, waiting at the airport, Callie’s precious little body still imprinted in me, my heart wide open to the mysterious nature of rhythms. One cannot foresee the potential always for new life, healing, and the ultimate power of love.
Yesterday your name was Dream Whisperer.
Breathed through rustling aspen leaves
announcing your arrival.
Did you hear the soft blow of your calling
echoed in robins caroling before the first light?
Did you see it reflected in new blades of grass
anchored by the garden path,
glimmering in a spider’s web shiny with dew?
Today your name is Callie,
Gaelic for ‘of the forest’
(even though your mother remembers a different story.)
Network of birch groves and cedar stands,
roots growing towards each other.
When you press your body against my heart
I am not sure where you begin and I end,
knees tucked in, the fuzz of your hair line.
Perhaps your name is ‘Opening Fern.’
A perfect frond loosening your grip
from the land of imagination
where we wonder how you will unfurl
hinted by the frown of an eyebrow, the twitch of a smile
eyes flutter open like bluebells, confirmed in morning sky.
Your outstretched fingers reaching up,
they have not forgotten the pathway
Then I will call you ‘Winged Traveller.’
A name punctuated by plucky crows
their sharp beaks breaking lilac twigs to rebuild nests,
a community to watch over you,
ready to rally together in a moments notice.
Your name thrummed by wings of a hummingbird
phosphorescent glow exotic as batik saris,
thatched huts, white sand beaches capturing the curl of surf
lithe bodies riding waves that meld into atmosphere.
I will name you ‘Azure Skylight.’
A container spilling upward punctuated by soft clouds
at times breaking with restless cries,
a container holding the company of stars, points of light
like invisible rays knowing your place.
Perhaps you will find Polaris, true north
the guiding one anchored in your heart
filled with intention, a flag of celebration
announcing your home!