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There it is—

The single isolated moment of peace

mixed into the loud and messy chaos.

Pink waves whisper on the horizon,

and the birds still chatter—

They might be busier than I.

Somehow, the same poem keeps writing itself (at least once a year) when I have a single moment to breathe,

and it goes like this:

My entire life, it has felt like someone was missing

until recently.

Now, everyone is here, and my life is complete.

The love -- deeper than i could have dreamed,

their laughter--more beautiful than any breeze or melody.

I long for nothing but more time to live in these moments,

A little less pain,

A lot more sleep,

And just a bit of space for me.

#poem #poeticstories #poetry #parent poems #motherhood

Sometimes I do wonder, it comes in passing dreams throughout days such as this one, that my parents would be happier if they had no children. I can envision them with an aura of freedom and happiness that have not found with me here. That if I could go back in time and tell them not to have children. Not because I don’t want to be born but so that they can be truly happy. In those dreams I see, they are the happiest with no children. A joy I can’t seem to give them no matter what I do.