Ode To My Son

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Abstract

in awe the sacred gift before me, my son, and a river that brings me each day a pebble from life.I swell into an ocean from praise, “Mama, are you pretty.” I hear the waves rise and fall, “Mama, help you.” I bask in the sunny beaches, “Mama, cook you.” I tow motherhood between boats, “Mama, worry don’t.”My son is a hurricane on past pain and leaves me standing — debris soaked

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by love and gratitude.Gloria is a prolific author of children’s stories inspired mostly by nature. She is also a multi-published poet, and her poetry has appeared in various literary magazines and journals, including being featured four times by National/Global Poetry Writing Month (Na/GloPoWriMo). You can find her books <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Gloria-D-Gonsalves/e/B0034PVNMC">here</a>.</article></body>

Post-birthday poem

Sketch by author

Stone after stone he throws into the river, and the water rippling waves of laughter, to meet the tiny feet kissing the shoreline.

I, his mother of three years, watch in awe the sacred gift before me, my son, and a river that brings me each day a pebble from life.

I swell into an ocean from praise, “Mama, are you pretty.” I hear the waves rise and fall, “Mama, help you.” I bask in the sunny beaches, “Mama, cook you.” I tow motherhood between boats, “Mama, worry don’t.”

My son is a hurricane on past pain and leaves me standing — debris soaked by love and gratitude.

Gloria is a prolific author of children’s stories inspired mostly by nature. She is also a multi-published poet, and her poetry has appeared in various literary magazines and journals, including being featured four times by National/Global Poetry Writing Month (Na/GloPoWriMo). You can find her books here.