motherhood

Raise my arms to the sky

I am not sure how to find love in the face of death and loss, 

or if I ever will. 

 

But oh, how I love the wind in the trees 

Green leaves and yellow blossoms 

Filling the sky and falling like angels to the ground

Golden drifts of sunshine carpeting the red earth. 

 

And how I love my daughter’s voice 

Soft in the first light, 

Whispering at my bedside 

In the quiet sleepy hours of morning. 

 

Or the sound of birds singing gleefully, 

Calling to each other in the distance and all about me. 

 

And how I love your face across the table from me 

The rough edges of your evening beard 

The soft lines of love and laughter, sadness and shame 

Resting on your sun kissed skin. 

 

And all of humanity, too

The courage of a sunset 

A world ravaged by earthquake and war 

A heart, opening again in spite of it all. 

  

Is there anything to do besides this?

Anything more to desire than love for these ordinary 

And yet extraordinary things? 

I could spend eternity waiting 

Or, instead, raise my arms to the sky 

And thank the heavens for one simple moment of grace.