Legacy

What will be the legacy of those we leave behind?

Will we ever know the impacts we have made?

Will we wonder from beyond?

Will we see clearly the trail of the heart of stars?

What will be the dreams we will fulfil that guided us through trials?

What will be the metaphor to stop us and make us think?

What will be the strands that link to make us deeply aware of all our parents did for us?

What will be the memories of my mother and mothering?

What will I continue and what will I transform?

What will be the meaning of the grass skirt wrapped in a blanket?

Will my daughter remember the dance my mother taught her that she never taught to me?

Will my sons ensure that their generation make two wings of the equality bird flap together?

Will they read poetry and love art for the rest of their days?

What will be the story they reform?

What will be the memories my children have of me?

Daily journaling to explore topic of motherhood and legacy.

Losing Parents

Sometimes when I can’t find the words for someones loss
I send leaves, flowers and hearts
a poetry of stickers
for them to interpret how they wish

If I know them well I might
share a special memory of the person
lost and how that will always be
like gold.

But when stickers, and flowers, and
everything just don’t seem to fit
I scroll past silently and think of them
and write this to send.

For anyone of my friends and readers who has lost a parent

To all my friends losing parents this week
I don’t know your parents except
through anything you do that is inspired by them,
and anything you build in their legacy,

Or anything you do opposite to them (because you need to),
but you still loved them because
they made you see yourself clearly.

To all the friends losing parents
in the last few years,
who still feel that loss, maybe you
hear their wisdoms, jokes, and
see again funny things at
the oddest moments.

Perhaps you look forward to
seeing them again one day and
catching up.

Or maybe they are reincarnated
in someone else you know
in some way
in the shape of face
or character
or some other way

Celebrating all the positives in our parents,
living and present, gone but still present, and
future parents too,
about to join this fold.

All who have this blessing,
could well ask,
what will our children write of us?

(I will keep reflecting on this theme and go searching for a poem or story that might express
it more eloquently)

Ballad of the Boots

Son to Mum

My boots are made for sleeping
I’ll never take them off again.
My feet are made for keeping
Those leathery brown boots.

My heart is made for boots
They are the world to me
& if you take them off me Mum
I’ll scream the whole house down.

My boots they sing me songs
As the crackle in the night
My heart is made for weeping
For my hand-me-down brown boots.

Mum to Son

Son, I wish you’d take off those boots
For they are lethal weapons as you sleep.
I know you love them deeply, truly, madly
But they do not make your parents
Meet the morning mildly mannered.

If you stayed asleep on your own bed
We’d have no problems with your obsession,
But as you creep up into ours

I’d rather your boots were dreams
& not your midnight possession