The world spins on a mother’s comfort,
breathes her words of encouragement,
dies when she sits with empty arms.
Joined with her heartbeat in the womb
we hear it pulse throughout our lives
with each step that takes us further from her.
Notes: I got this far and hit a wall. I am not sure how to continue. Do I write about when we lose our mothers? The strength she gives/gave? I began with the world and went to we...Does that work?
Izy at Real Toads asked us to post an unfinished poem and ask for feedback on how to complete it.
Poems In Progress