I hear your call,

Like you held me up every time I would fall,

Scrapped knees on concrete,

While across the school walls wisteria creeped,

Framing a future, I was not to repeat,

A life to be lived just for one’s own,

A womb to be carried for me alone,

A sacred prayer that I must hold on,

Till morning comes,

As it always does,

 

You helped me grow,

Through playground matches,

Swimming lessons,

And football practice,

I watched you nurture me,

As if it was a given the cycle would repeat,

As if it was a a right to be as you were,

To live as you lived,

 

I watched as my mother played the perfect part,

Through school yard bake sales,

And egg and spoon races,

A life so her it’s hard to imagine,

What it would have been if we hadn’t happened,

 

But I weave my cloth in a different way,

And a different future I face day by day,

To see the world and all its glory,

To live for love but not have it be my whole story.

Elizabeth L. Michaels

Photo by Sherry Wright on Unsplash