"We're all just walking each other home." - - Ram Dass

Wednesday, January 23, 2013


To become a mother 
is to become a dreamcatcher.

source: Pinterest

{I catch}

the moment your face
breaks with surprise
that we're spending the day at Disney World.

the laughter that explodes
from your top bunk
when you're supposed to be sleeping.

the sun pooling on your bedhead
as you emerge drowsy from sleep
to take in Puerto Rico.

the joy in your upturned face
as confetti rains softly down
and sticks to your smile

your backs
pressed up against
the age of the earth

as you take in
the size of your body
against the expanse of the world.

As your mother,
I am the catcher of memories, joys, and
dreams of childhood.

Responsible to weave these droplets,
these multitude of moments into a web
so when the wind blows, threatening to scatter -

the web will hold taunt and strong,
even when you falter.
when the world seems too raw, or the obstacle too great.

I'll point to the collection of your life experiences
and whisper -
"no child.  See here?  You carry all of this inside you."

I am responsible for linking the ordinary days with the extraordinary,
threading the beads of a lifetime
to drape across your necks.

to put your toes in far off oceans.
to open your eyes to all the places yet to discover.

to hold you closely
as the day draws its shade
putting your ears to my chest so you may hear the rhythm of my heart -

that which nurtured you,
and sang to you your first lullaby
whilst you were still in my depths, in the warm waters of creation.

I dedicate myself to man the loom of your beautiful tapestry of life experience and unwavering worth.

I will let this dreamcatcher
dance in the light breeze upon a tree branch,
let it dazzle in the sun

so that you may peer into the web
we are building together
and see your reflection shine.

source: Pinterest

... Won't you join us over at Emily's today where the inspiration for this week's Imperfect Prose is:


  1. This was beautiful, Tara. The words and the picture glimpses made such gorgeous poetry.

  2. This was stunning, Tara. It is so easy to forget the role of a mother as you describe it, amidst the runny noses, homework, whining and crying. Thank you for such a great visualization of my 'job' everyday. Judy

  3. yes, Judy is right. it is so easy to miss this "calling forth" that you describe, amidst all the passion and fatigue of everyday life.
    you have reminded me.
    and i am grateful.

    (also glad to hear your voice back in this place, Tara! hope your trip was refreshing!)

  4. That is IT. Write me a book. Leather bound with wispy pages. I want to sit and drink tea and words like this and I want to keep them forever. xoxox Been missing your words!

    1. A very hearty AMEN. Ahem. Book time, Tara. We need it!

  5. Discover... that's the word that struck me. I have forgotten to let them be children lately, and lead them to discover.

  6. This:
    "I dedicate myself to man the loom of your beautiful tapestry of life experience and unwavering worth"
    so very, very beautiful, Tara.
    And such an amazing spinning of this glorious calling.

  7. Tara, I love this "I dedicate myself to man the loom" . . . Amazing to be invited into this role, this life. Thank you.

  8. LOVE your imagery here... mothers... children.. dreams.. and the beautiful way God allows us to be a piece of His great big dream for this world. It's been too long since i've lingered here. As always, I'm glad i came.

  9. "man the loom." love that phrase. so rich with imagery.
    beautifully spoken, tara.
    blessings to you this day,

  10. We are entrusted with such treasure, to man the loom of their lives. You place motherhood among the holy at the altar, right where it should be. Glad to see your words back in this space and it looks like you had a wonderful trip.

  11. You capture the magic of mama-hood, dear friend. Simply beautiful.

  12. Dreamcatcher. This is beautiful Tara. I am thinking right now of all the times I've already reminded my sons of who they are and what they have already done. We catch the dreams and watch our children soar with the encouragement of where they have already been, what they are capable of doing. I am just drinking your words up today friend. So glad to see you back here today.

  13. Beautiful, just beautiful. You have a wonderful way with words.

  14. Beautiful. Love this: "I dedicate myself to man the loom of your beautiful tapestry of life experience and unwavering worth." Captures 'mom' like no other.

  15. this is so beautiful. and we used the same image in our posts this week, how odd and mysterious and beautiful. i cannot wait to reach this phase with my daughter, to soar with her and catch her dreams in a basket for her just in case they might fall.

    visiting from dear emily's place. <3

  16. This was a perfect read for me today. As the mom of a teen daughter, this is probably the most important thing I do right now, try to reflect back to her the bright lights of her soul that hormones and drama threaten to obscure. I just love how you've expressed it.

  17. You're back!! I'm so, so happy!!! And to return with such a beautiful, heartaching-ly good post...I'm even happier. Gorgeous, you.

  18. Oh Tara the poetic voice of your mother's heart is exquisite. What extravagant love and care, over their lives, their hearts, their experiences and their beings we are entrusted with. Beautiful friend, simply exquisite. I have missed your words of late.

  19. Absolutely gorgeous, Tara. If I could write like this, I would!

  20. This is absolutely gorgeous Tara, I want to go back and read it again. Stunning.

  21. You say it exactly - beautifully - Since taking my boys (sons 2,3,4) to see Les Miserable a few years ago - I've been wanting to do a post on being a dream catcher - because sometimes it is through the dream catching of the little things that are more important than the event (which was a comedy of errors). You write it nobly, with such beauty - put into words what's been in my heart! Thank you, Tara:)

  22. You bring tears to an old mans eyes. Wish I was there to hug you guys.


  23. I'll point to the collection of your life experiences
    and whisper -
    "no child. See here? You carry all of this inside you."

    oh tara. simply exquisite. and the rapture in your children's faces ...

  24. Oh Tara, dream-catcher indeed. This is stunning.


  25. You take my breath away. I wish I could have a tape (oops! I mean a CD!) of your poetry to start my day... like yoga for the mind you are!

  26. What glorious words and images. Those first six stanzas in particular blow me away. Beautiful, beautiful stuff!