This week at #wholemama our prompt was ordinary. This word can hold the beautiful and the dutiful, so I felt a structured poem would be the best way to frame it. It has been awhile since I wrote in the repetitive rhythm of iambic pentameter, but the challenge seemed the perfect way to delight in purposeful repetition.
For the Whole Mama
A scribe in battle with embracing plain.
I string together words so I can breathe.
A hint of holy gently floods the bane
mundane. Reminding mama not to seethe.
The ordinary crashes in again.
The humdrum patterns play amongst the waves
of chronic, cyclic tasks that push my pen
to write about when life does misbehave.
The dreams can run, still strong. I find a muse
where little people roam. Create, renew
the simple seconds into bliss. I choose
to make them coexist. The be. The do.
A careful dance the mother/writer soul.
A symbiotic blend. The two. The whole.