poems about parenting

Three poems about parenting

If you stumble across this post, I’d like to encourage you to take a moment and breathe deeply, then slowly read these three poems about parenting that I wrote. They are short, but not meant to be skimmed. Take a moment and be present as you read them. Then carry that being-present-and-paying-attention-ness into the rest of your day.

You pray for a miracle and forget

how your hips turn out
just in time and your ribs
fan gently open
like doors letting the breeze in;
how your spine shifts
to keep you and the new life
in balance, walking, moving forward.
And your toes,
don’t forget the brilliance of their sprawl,
something so subtle giving
stability to your entire being.

His Limbs Grow Gold with Hair

Just now he tripped
over a toy, refused
my comfort, saying
“No, mommy, I can
do it. I can kiss
it all better.”

And he did
kiss his own arm
while pushing
me away.

Dear God

The sky is stunning tonight –
just the feast I need to appease
the desperation in me.
You already know this

and also this: I have been shocked
by motherhood –
how wide my heart has opened
as if to swallow every ocean,
not just the first few glittering fathoms
but even the translucent creatures
at unmeasurable depths
with skin unfamiliar to light.

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winter walk

A Christmas poem

From all of us to all of you… have a merry Christmas, friends. Christmas Bells by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, And wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men! And thought how, as the day had come, The belfries (read more…)

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Poem: Book Learning

I‘ve always loved reading. For as long as I can remember, I have turned to books for entertainment and comfort — and also for information and wisdom. So when I was pregnant with my daughter, Lucy (and even more so after she was born), I naturally devoured any book on pregnancy or childcare I could (read more…)

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poem about sleeping child

Poem: After Two Years, I Should Be Doing Anything Else

There is something magical about a sleeping child. My son turned five last week and I wrote this poem when he was two, as the title suggests. As a parent, especially as a working parent, nap time can be a precious time to be productive. I had a ritual of pausing for a few minutes (read more…)

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Poem: Nuevos Santos

There is one among my fine lot of friends who, once upon a time, found herself in love with a hard-working Mexican man. She visited him often, waited for him to receive a green card. When he finally had the prize in hand, they were married by the local Catholic priest, and flew north to (read more…)

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