A Mother’s Love

One thing I have always been committed to is giving my children unconditional love. Loving them with all my heart absolutely without question through the good and bad times. I believe they each know that and I pray that they are uplifted by that because when that love is missing in a child’s life, or when love comes with conditions or is withheld or replaced with ostracism, or it’s benefaction is a consequence of a child fulfilling a parents request rather than being the bedrock of the relationship unconditionally, the fallout leaves an unfortunate legacy for a lifetime. For love is not a neatly packaged commodity that only comes out when everything goes well. True love weathers the storms and perseveres through thick and thin. It doesn’t barter. It doesn’t trick. It seeks truth and holds fast in sunshine and in rain.

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Mother (A Haiku)

Mother

Mother Nature
Omnipotent across all realms
And likewise
A Mother’s heart
Touching her offspring
Like dew drops resting on the blades of grass
To the oceans mighty waves
Like the buds of Spring
To the fullness of summer’s blooms
Like the smallest humming bird
To the magnificent soaring Eagle
Across an open plain
To the highest mountain peak
Everywhere, enduring
Boundless, beautiful
Infinite, blessed
And full of grace

A Mother’s Son

One minute, he was a baby
A small, innocent child
The apple of my eye and more
So tender, meek and mild

And then before I knew it
He’d got to six foot three
A strapping, independent lad
Leaving nest and family

Venturing out to greener fields
To take the world by storm
Whilst finding out for himself what
Path will become his norm

Creating his life on his own
His choice and making too
A fiercely independent chap
Striding to pastures new

Yet in his wake my heartstrings
Stretching from Mum to boy
With built-in elasticity
Connection to employ

A dichotomy or paradox
Willing him to go far
Yet feeling twinges and the wrench
Emotions slightly charred

But also by the same token
Being proud from job well done
With joy and thrill that’s just saying
“Become a man my son.”

“Become a man and blend your life
Make footsteps in the sand
Ones of contentment; happiness
By which you will then stand”

“And be compassionate with grace
Upholding honour true
For boy now grown up; fledging flown
I will always love you!”

 

A Mother’s Pride

He played to the world
Not as a mere player on a stage
But as one who could invoke emotion
Inciting the orchestra of the soul
To rise in a crescendo of rupture
Imploring the heart to sing her songs
The anthems of a thousand angels
Voices thronging in the heavens of mind
Where the applause of the timpani
And the sheer beauty of his trombone
Magnified his magnificence
Expounding the splendour; the tone;
The resonance; the sound
That became one between player and her
As she listened to him
Transfixed; adoringly
Full of pride; full of love
For he played to the world
Not as a mere player on a stage
But her son; no longer a boy but a man
The evolving virtuoso
With his gift unwrapped for the world

Dedicated to my son on the occasion of his performance of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Trombone Concerto with Lincolnshire Youth Wind Orchestra, July 2014

Photo credit: BenDJ Photography 2014