Job description

Photo by TJ Arnold on Unsplash

“What is my purpose?” You ask.
“Why should I live?” You wonder.
Why? The answer is clear, dear mother,
You live for me!

You gave me birth
Don’t think it ends there.
It begins where I begin
And will end only when I do.

Get busy mother
You have work to do.
Your child is fifty-three
Needier than before.
She reaches out
To hold your finger
While her world rages
And swirls around her.

Don’t put up your feet yet.
Your work is not done
Till I am spoon-fed
Encouraging words
Dollops of blind faith
And adoration of the way I dance.

Be ready, mother to hold me
When I come to you smiling.
See through me as you did
In the transparency of my childhood.
You have to wipe tears
Clean the scrapes
Kiss them better.

Get busy Mother
You can’t retire yet