Mothers and our relationships with them can be complicated and it can be hard to put all of that into words, but Erin Belieu, I think, does a pretty good job of it.
by Erin Belieu
Mother, I'm trying
Mother, I'm trying
to write
a poem to you—
which is how most
poems to mothers must
begin—or, What I've wanted
to say, Mother...but we
as children of mothers,
even when mothers ourselves,
cannot bear our poems
to them. Poems to
mothers make us feel
little again. How to describe
that world that mothers spin
and consume and trap
and love us in, that spreads
for years and men and miles?
Those particular hands that could
smooth anything: butter on bread,
cool sheets or weather. It's
the wonder of them, good or bad,
those mother-hands that pet
and shape and slap,
that sew you together
the pieces of a better house
or life in which you'll try
to live. Mother,
I've done no better
than the others, but for now,
here is your clever failure.
which is how most
poems to mothers must
begin—or, What I've wanted
to say, Mother...but we
as children of mothers,
even when mothers ourselves,
cannot bear our poems
to them. Poems to
mothers make us feel
little again. How to describe
that world that mothers spin
and consume and trap
and love us in, that spreads
for years and men and miles?
Those particular hands that could
smooth anything: butter on bread,
cool sheets or weather. It's
the wonder of them, good or bad,
those mother-hands that pet
and shape and slap,
that sew you together
the pieces of a better house
or life in which you'll try
to live. Mother,
I've done no better
than the others, but for now,
here is your clever failure.
It is a very clever poem. I really like it!
ReplyDeleteIt speaks to my heart as a mother and as a daughter.
Delete...and we do.
ReplyDeleteI remember cross-stitching a little piece for my mom long ago that said moms take the weeds with the flowers, which I loved back then. Now I think I like the weeds more than the flowers. This is a lovely poem that takes on the complexities of trying to explain the complexities of this relationship.
ReplyDeleteTaking the weeds with the flowers is sort of what it is all about, isn't it?
DeleteHere is your clever failure..I love that last line. None of us who are mothers were ever given an instruction manual. Most of us just did the best we could and hoped that was enough. And knowing our mothers felt, probably, the same way = it really makes me think.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was growing up, I think I was under the impression that my mother had gone to "Mothering School," earned an advanced degree and knew it all. In fact, her mother had died when my mother was twelve years old and she grew up essentially motherless. Without a role model, she had to figure it out on her own and I know now that she must have often been confused and uncertain about how the handle the strange little girl she had produced. As you say, she did the best she could and I think it was more than enough. I honor her memory for that.
Delete