Mother, Heal Thyself

 
My wounds are deep, and dark as violet blood.
My love is as pure as the white snow.
My knowledge is as limited as the seasons of my life.
My experiences, so far, have been most the colors and shades of the universe.
Today, the moment I realize another mistake I’ve made as a Mother, my heart shatters like the thin layer of ice my boots made crackle as I hurried home, then the tears come.
There are few things we can’t change; death or being born, or take back; a tear or a harsh word.
I focus on what I can change, the more I heal myself, the easier my role as Mother is becoming.
My focus changes, from time to time, to my other womanly roles; friend, lover, sister, and daughter: are all affected by my childhood.
It gets easier every day to switch from one to the next, some lines still blur, but my awareness grows.
I feel stronger than I ever have in my life today, the tears have come and gone, and my heart is light, and I know, somehow my sleep will be restful.

written Dec'08