Answering each cry, heart leaping faster than my limbs,
I rocked tiny ones close,
soft breath and hands patting my face,
lashes closing into worlds past me.
I nodded at mantras
chanted by women my mother’s age
enjoy them while they’re young
this time goes too fast
though so weary
my skeleton ached for rest.
Motherhood’s origami folded and creased me
in unfathomable patterns, as together
we sang to the Milky Way on late night walks,
blessed insects set free from window bound prisons,
danced through days far from time’s imagination.
Mantras come true.
Now those little ones lean over me,
pausing gently before hurrying toward worlds beyond.
Last night I dreamed of fallen fruit, ripe unto bursting.
I offered this bounty to children
but in house after house they had been fed.
Waking, I see design revealed.
I feel the beauty
of greater unfolding.