How long can I tether my babe to my little space
To prevent, or pre-empt every pitfall
Or how far can I spread that safety net
To guard his every step, lest he stumbles and falls
The triumphs, the tribulations, the travails
The trepidations of being a mother
that overshadows the natural-
to nurture in openness,
to let the budding breathe in the vastness?
I cut the umbilical, for birthing the new
Time chooses its moment so,
As does nature tunes in, for every stage of ripening
The inborn comes to the fore, to fight, the finest of becoming
Will not my protective shell, protract his burgeoning?
To clamp my thoughts and cramp his being in my mind-space
Could I seek the choicest of nature in trace?
Yet, I cling, unwilling to let go
Is it my overarching love or the overbearing ego
That a mother knows best;
When she is as earthen of the nature
That puts her to the test?
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