Mothering is about taking in
the helpless, the hopeless,
the fragile, the strong lil one,
the funny one,
the one you promised to nurture
beyond your wild dreams . . .
Mothering is also the Superdog . . .
. . . who selflessly keeps watch
of the new one
and the sick one
forgetting that he himself needs watching . . .
Mothering is about great bonding . . .
. . . and wonderful exchanges of calm energies . . .
Mothering is also for the fathers , , ,
. . . like Hughes
who eventually realizes
that it is OK to be a father
and fun to care for one's pup Kizu
especially if that pup loves playing too!
Mothering is best
when one is busy
minding one's business
yet finding your supporters beside you!
The young Kizu on my left:
. . . and Sweepy and Hughes on my right as I read . . .
Mothering is knowing
that we need to be strong,
and to be healthy for our loved ones . . .
. . . because they are relying on you . . .
. . . especially the transients
Petra and Petrocelli on the shed's roof . . .
. . . waiting patiently every day
for whatever you can share with them.
Mothers day is also for people
who are like mothers to us . . .
. . . my senior sisters Loyd and Luchie
even in their retirement years
continue to help in the community.
Nurturing visions and providing for the needs
of retired professional people like themselves.
They live busy lives.
More busy than mine.
Yet they mother me.
On this weekend
we celebrate Mothers Day
by gorging on the pastries
that they bought on their recent outing:
(now who says retired people live boring lives!)
Yummy tarts: coconut, strawberry and egg tarts
from Tagaytay where my sisters went.
They gave some to the neighbors too.
And the neighbor sent some sweets
in exchange to the one we sent.
Mothering is sharing.
Mothering is also about embracing communities
and people, and animals, and nature
into a throbbing energy
of intertwined fate.
For all mothers,
teen mothers, absent mothers,
dog mothers, cat mothers,
mother earth and motherland
all sighing with the commercial sphere
of loving quotes . . .
The moon is waxing
the earth is a-firing
the wind howls clumsily
the sun blazes in confusion
the rain pours in torrents
washing our veiled eyes.
. . . have a happy
Make it a monthly thing.
. . . and all my mothers . . .