Mothered By The Storm

I was mothered by the storm.

Held in its arms as it whirled round and round.

No peaceful shore did I embrace

Until my brow had grown so wild

And acrid tears had dried unwiped

I was mothered by the storm so fierce.

Its passion beats beneath my ribs.

A rhythm none but I  can dance

So judge me not, oh ones so soft

Who unlike me were mothered by hands of love


2 thoughts on “Mothered By The Storm”

    1. Hello Liz! I have missed you so much. Yes, many of us are living lives shaped by our past experiences and upbringing. We are often hard wired to relate the way we do with life and with others. I have seen so many neglected and abused children and the ‘stormy’ environment within which they are being raised. Yet they cling to their parents and live them so intensely in a way only they understand. A bit sad really.
      So good to have you back Liz. I will be visiting your blog as soon as I get a minute.


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