Mothering Day (and a poem)

The fragrant bush by the front door that always blooms in May, just around “Mothering Day”

Each year we celebrate Mothers Day in the U.S., and this year my eyes were opened a little bit to those around me who are not mothers, women who are not yet married, women who are married without children, etc., and to remember that this day could be hard for some of them– especially for those who desire to have children but do not have them.

The other thing I am more aware of is the many women who perhaps are not biological mothers, but who still are “mothering” others in their lives. I enjoyed a post on another blog, which toward the end of the article, suggests that “Mothering Day” is a more apt term. And I agree.

So, here I share a “Mothering Day” poem, which I wrote a year ago. It is about me, holding my own child (yes, I am a mother), and also about the many children who have no one to hold them. 


The Longing Arms

Filled now and spilling
When arms hold
And hush the
Long anticipated one-
Sweet love requited.

Did I know
How empty they were-
My arms, heart-
Before you?
You laughed at the emptiness
And swallowed it whole.

…of the wind
she is, a soft kiss
come alive
the eyes and face of those with
thin, motherless arms.


(Note: the poem is written in a specific structure, called a “Shadorma”, with the following syllabic structure in each stanza: 3-5-3-3-7-5).


4 thoughts on “Mothering Day (and a poem)

  1. Beautiful thoughts and yes, Happy Mothering day to all those who are mothers and to those who are Mother’s in Israel, providing kisses, love and tender care for others who may or may not have a biological mother.

  2. Thank you for your sensitive comments to those of us to whom God has not given children. Church is hard on Mother’s Day. One friend who has shed many tears over her infertility, now made permanent by breast cancer and subsequent surgeries, will not go to services at all on that Sunday. She is having such a hard time in general right now for multiple reasons; if you think of it this weekend, perhaps you could pray for God to comfort K.S.? A lovely poem, too, and new form for me to play with later. :)

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