Saturday, May 10, 2008


This is my tribute to moms...
i feel it in my whole being-- this joy of creating and nurturing life-- and awe and respect for so many amazing mothers that I look up to and hope I can become like in this journey I have begun...
Morning Song
Sylvia Plath
Love set you going like a fat gold watch.
The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry
Took its place among the elements.
Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue. In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.
I'm no more your mother
Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the wind's hand.
All night your moth-breath
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:
A far sea moves in my ear.
One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat's. The window square
Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you tryYour handful of notes;The clear vowels rise like balloons.


Murv said...

I can see the other life in the room now, not just a drafty cabin with the window open. Great fun on the greens in Houston, lets do it again soon, when its real hot and we will tie the babys stroller to the back of the golf cart..ha ha.

Anonymous said...

I love the poem. It's beautiful. As are the pictures in their representation of the incredible gift it is to be a Mom. Can't wait to see you with your baby swaddled closely.