I'm not much for babies.
Oh, I dispense a few sweet noises on demand
like a reluctant gumball machine,
but as often as not, the nickel gets jammed and there I am,
stifling a yawn.
My own child was different of course, but he's grown and gone.
I look around, and it feels like my heart is bunged,
So today I'm on the sidewalk in front of a pet supply store,
navigating the cages, looking.
I'm drawn
to the shy ones,
the small ones,
the hurt ones,
the lonely ones.
C'mere baby, come to mama,
Come on-a my house, my house-a come on.
I will make you bold.
I will make you safe.
I will make you well.
I will make you loved.
It's mother-magic, presto! and we'll make a ton of it
out of thin air.
_______
First - this: "like a reluctant gumball machine," So good. But the ending! The magic of mother love out of thin air... Amazing.
ReplyDeleteIt's amazing what love can do to heal, and more so with animals, who are so much less ambiguous and variable in their needs. You would mother every single one in need if you could, Shay, and so would I. (qbit quotes my favorite lines.)
ReplyDeleteI love the tenderness, the sweetness of your poem ....
ReplyDeleteI LOVE the reluctant gumball machine.........and adore the furry sweeties you want to take home and heal. Me, too.
ReplyDelete"Mother magic"! I love that and we've got it to spare for the critters that seem the most in need of it. Where does it come from? Not the "reluctant gumball machine" doing what it's gotta do. Where does it go, this "mother magic" when it's no longer needed, but where it's needed, in poetry, in mama-talk intonations of "mother magic" that only the shy, small, hurt, lonely ones can impart and understand.
ReplyDeleteI love this tag you chose btw: "Dare to post unprompted." I think I'm tending that way myself. Except for your prompts of course, Shay :)