Mother gifts me to her,
and her smile lights up the room.
Her curly, dark hair drapes around me
when she hugs me, and Mother
feels safe knowing that I will protect her.
She sits me on her lap, my weight almost too much
for her to hold, and plays with my paws.
This game will show her that
Mother has a plan
and that I will keep her happy, while the world around her
crumbles.
Mother fades away eventually,
and she still clings to me.
Her soft tears running down my fur,
how I wish I had the motion to hug her.
Mother will look through me, and Mother will take
care.
Through me.
She continues to grow, her hair becomes longer,
less curly and more untidy.
Her eyes less bright, more sunken and hurt.
But I watch her, I keep her.
For Mother knows best and I am her keeper.
One day.
She notices me.
She scrapes off the dust from my coat
with the same gentle touch from before.
She looks at me and I look at her.
It feels relieving to be touched again,
tears well up in her eyes.
She misses Mother, and again,
I wish I could hold her.
The waves splash across my face again.
This time, I wish she could see me crying with her.
I am proud of Mother’s creation, proud of myself
for keeping her safe.
Proud of her, for fighting more and more each day.
If Mother were here, she’d cry with me too
This poem flowed out me when I found this white teddy bear in my closet, which was a mess, and remembered where he came from. My mother gave him to after receiving him as a get well soon present at the hospital. This poem is about what his eyes may have seen throughout my life and what he may have thought and still thinks.
Thank you for reading my first blog post.
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