To become a mother
is to become a dreamcatcher.
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
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.