interior ruckus…a poem about motherhood

interior ruckus—part one

i had no idea at twenty-nine
an unfamiliar inner voice
so bossy, persuasive
now, right now

hormonal messengers
working overtime
baby, baby, baby

OR so i assumed...

in my 20s, i knew so little about my biology 
youth doesn't ask many questions
baby, baby, baby

oh, to possess that blissful ignorance again

i understand now…
my ancient biology didn’t take over,
my private sociology did

interior ruckus of
age & expectations
my societal & familial programming
working overtime
interior ruckus—part two

period late
hopeful & cautious
baby, baby, baby 

a September birthday?
NOPE, not this month
my body sighed

moons passed
late again
my body whispered, YES
a winter birthday?
baby, baby, baby

my son arrived
late in February 
all giant and squirmy
and mine
 
three years later
that familiar drumbeat
my personal sociology 
our son needs a sibling

my body whispered again
maybe baby?
Saturday—NO 
Monday—YES, and...
babies, in my wife? 

baby A & baby B
gritty little homesteaders
inhabitants of my territory
overlapping claims
our complex symbiosis 

my daughters arrived
in the middle of May 
all tiny and squirmy
and mine
interior ruckus—part three

mothering through menopause
hormones tectonic
& not just mine

age and expectations
divergent boundaries
epicenters evershifting
interior ruckus

a lifetime spent studying the waves
vibrations recorded
push and pull
energy released
expected

motherhood's seismic shift
less vigilance now required
when monitoring underground movement
tremors are expected

half-written, whole heartedly…

I have so many half-written posts from the last few weeks. I’ve written about democracy, racism. aging, my fears about the state of the world, cults & narcissism, sexism, motherhood, the artist Milton Glaser, the con of 1980s televangelists, kayaking with seals, our intricate vascular systems, humanism, menopause, radical acceptance, letting go, and realists vs. optimists. I haven’t felt like posting anything. Why?

I got curious, then it hit me…I think I have PAYING ATTENTION FATIGUE and I suspect many of you do too. The world is asking us to pay attention to so many things. I don’t need to add to anyone’s electronic burden now.

So, for the summer anyway, I’ll be posting mostly art, photographs, and short quotes…unless I change my mind, of course. The summer is still young.

“What if pain—like love—is just a place brave people visit?”

―Glennon Doyle Melton, Love Warrior