Mountain Mothers
Each time I fumble or fall,
these foothills of the Sierra Madre
set me back on my feet.
They cheer my bumbling way
and tell me celebrate
all of my not-knowings.
Little human, I hear them murmur,
clumsy is perfect.
We keep watch while you learn
how to walk,
to love.
To fly!
Oh mountain mothers,
your nurturing witness
shelters our stumbling path.
May we be humble enough
to persist in becoming
the beings you see we are.
©Susa Silvermarie 2021
The Beautiful Mother, mothering! Thank you, Susa. (I am sharing your Flourishing nourishment of poetry now that I finally have your book!)
Lovely, as always.