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Abstract

unsel. Daily lives filled with guilt and doubt if we are doing it at all right, or if we could’ve done better.Our hearts heavy when we feel your sorrow but could also burst from pride to see the person you have become.We sacrifice for your well-being at our own choice, not a burden for you to carry but ours to bear. Secrets kept so you are spared.We are the deepest of wells filled with wisdom and we welcome you to drink. We c

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omfort you in our bosom even when you think you are too old to be held.We are the daughters of mothers and the mothers to daughters and sons.I wrote this in honour of my mother who has now passed. I feel she still carries me, as I carry her in me, for my daughter and son.<figure id="09a4"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*Y6jdrMlzDf5KtgHqO4QPOw.jpeg"><figcaption>my mother and I</figcaption></figure></article></body>

A poem in honour of mothers

Photo of myself pregnant with my son who is now 20.

Our bodies carry you, vessels of your very existence. Women bore from women and men from them.

Our hearts carry the nurturing love given with tender words spoken in guiding counsel. Daily lives filled with guilt and doubt if we are doing it at all right, or if we could’ve done better.

Our hearts heavy when we feel your sorrow but could also burst from pride to see the person you have become.

We sacrifice for your well-being at our own choice, not a burden for you to carry but ours to bear. Secrets kept so you are spared.

We are the deepest of wells filled with wisdom and we welcome you to drink. We comfort you in our bosom even when you think you are too old to be held.

We are the daughters of mothers and the mothers to daughters and sons.

I wrote this in honour of my mother who has now passed. I feel she still carries me, as I carry her in me, for my daughter and son.

my mother and I