It's your skin, once thick and strong is now stretched thinly over your bones like a balloon with too much air.
It's briddle bones begging for rest but pushing on inspite of the pain.
It's Trembling hands, muscles shaking;
bending, breaking.
It's a wieght that is heavy but it holds you together somehow.
It's the glue which grabs hold of each atom, every particle that is you, and binds you until you are not only full and complete, but overflowing with warmth, light and love.
It's waking to wonder and adventure every morning.
It's the feeling you get when something moves you to your core,
that all you can do is cry.
It's beholding a beauty so pure that you cannot imitate it...not with words, not with paint, not even with a song.
It stretches your skin thin so that you may shed it to make way for new layering...
peeling away the thick coats of greed, selfishness...the unseemliness inside of us to make way for skin that glows like fireflies in the black night.
Skin made to comfort, heal and nourish.
It's steadfast devotion, infinite enchantment and bewildering moments in time...
Sleepy sweetness, slow living and constant reminiscing of this singular remarkable existence.
This is what it is to be a mother.
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