a blessing for mother’s day.

may you find love.
enough to fill any holes.

may you find healing.
enough to cover any wounds.

may you find hope.
enough to keep your dream alive.

may everything that was taken from you, return to you as joy.

may all your failures grow into
courage.

may you find yourself brave enough to try again, and again, and again.

may you find a soft place to rest,
where you can take off everything that is not yours to carry, and

may you always be found by the light, no matter where you are.

— a blessing for mother’s day.

© Liezel Graham 2020.

Image by Kirill Pershin.
{Unsplash}.

Today is Mother’s Day in the UK and Ireland.

For many women it is a happy day where they are celebrated and loved that wee bit extra.

Happy Mother’s Day to you!

…but, if your arms are empty, or if your womb and your heart has only known loss, if you are grieving a child, grieving a mother, grieving any woman who has loved you like a mother, if you are a mum who has fallen again, and again—who knows bitter disappointment, shame and failure as friends, then I send you love today.

For the fathers who have to be mothers, too—you are doing just fine.

For the grannies, that are mums again, for the stepmums who have had to step into new shoes—you are doing just fine.

May you be found by everything that you need.

You are so loved.

liezel

have you ever?

have you ever eaten
sweet potato

baked in its own skin, taken straight from the oven
still warm.

rough on your mouth
at first,

but then,

sweet

soft flesh,
opening orange
on your starved tongue

no fork
no knife
or plate,

not dressed up as anything
it is not.

hands taking what they want,

this gift.

— have you ever?

© Liezel Graham 2020.

Image by Ela Haney.
{Unsplash}.

there is beauty all around us.

this morning, i baked a tray of lovely sweet potatoes.

a poem found me in the soft, orange flesh.

learning to let go | trust.

every new morning,
i set all of my tomorrows free.

— learning to let go | trust

© Liezel Graham 2020.

Background image by Filip Zrnzević.

for some of us, learning to let go of security and the need to control things beyond our control—deciding every fresh morning to let go of what we think our tomorrows should look like, learning to live in the moment, can be the bravest thing we ever do.

also the scariest.

you are not alone.

i see you.

x

Adhaan.

my eyes find hers.

i say,

one more push!

you’re almost there.

as women have done
for years

since time began, and

suddenly!

a rush of life.

my hands hold

hope,

slick with blood.

i wipe nose and mouth,
look for tiny breaths,
a whisper on my hands.

she cries.

i smile, but
still

no words fall from my tongue.

not yet.

eyes wide with wonder,

he looks at me,
i nod.

and

there
beside the bed,
a new-born father

finds,

perfectly folded,

his daughter’s tiny ear.

bends down
holy,

softly whispers
ancient words filled with God.

— adhaan.

© Liezel Graham 2020.

Photograph by Charles Deluvio.

I shared this poem in my writing group this morning and I thought I would share it with all of you over here, too.

The Adhaan (Adhan) is the Muslim call to prayer which a father whispers into the right ear of his newborn baby as soon as possible after birth.

I once delivered a lovely Muslim couple’s first baby and this was an incredibly beautiful rite to witness.

liezel

you are allowed to put your life down and rest.

you are not enough
to feed five thousand.

even three has been too much,
despite what others see.

have you felt a failure
because of this?

even God had to row to the other side of the sea
to escape.

and rest.

— you are allowed to put your life down and rest.

© Liezel Graham 2020.

Photograph by Kasper Lau.