I have nurtured hatred
unendingly so................
bags full of trash
valueless to the world
priceless to me
as all other worthless thoughts
churned and cherished
within the fragile membranes
of a puerile mind
now appear to have lost their shine
in the blinding glitter
of mushrooming malls
I have parented dreams
wailing in the womb
of silenced nights
throttled sobs
and muffled cries
I have sung lullabies
to sooth them to sleep
and woken them up
at the wrong time
fed them what
money could not buy
nourished them well
so that they not die
an untimely death
schooled them to believe
they have been immortalized
Yes, I have mothered dreams
but never a child...
unendingly so................
bags full of trash
valueless to the world
priceless to me
as all other worthless thoughts
churned and cherished
within the fragile membranes
of a puerile mind
now appear to have lost their shine
in the blinding glitter
of mushrooming malls
I have parented dreams
wailing in the womb
of silenced nights
throttled sobs
and muffled cries
I have sung lullabies
to sooth them to sleep
and woken them up
at the wrong time
fed them what
money could not buy
nourished them well
so that they not die
an untimely death
schooled them to believe
they have been immortalized
Yes, I have mothered dreams
but never a child...
What a stunning end... those dreams that can both break and build... I wonder if we are struck by them or they strike us.
ReplyDeleteThanks Brudberg
DeleteOh this is so very deep and thought provoking.
ReplyDeleteThanks Sana
DeleteThat ending strikes a powerful chord, to have mothered dreams but never a child. Wonderful writing. Nice to see you in the Pantry! I hope you keep coming back. Smiles.
ReplyDeleteYes will try to come back again and again Sherry
DeleteWow that is certainly a powerful end to a good poem.
ReplyDeleteThanks Julian
DeleteI have parented dreams
ReplyDeletewailing in the womb.....
It is so so moving and so true! strikes as a stark truth to the reader.How a mother nurtures her child feeding her silently with the pains turned into pleasure.
Loved the ending---
Yes, I have mothered dreams
but never a child...
Thanks Sunita as always
DeleteAny kind of mothering can be hard work!
ReplyDeleteI know Rosemary. so true.
DeletePowerful stuff.
ReplyDeleteMy favourite:
"fed them what
money could not buy" This line sums up the essence of any nurturer- mother, father, mentor, gardener....love it. Thank you:)
Thanks Arti
DeleteA tempest of emotions and thoughts on a platter! Loved it:)
ReplyDeleteThanks Amitji
DeleteThis poem really moves me. Open and honest. My favorite kind of writing. The ending saddens me really, and I keep thinking that there are many ways in which a person can mother....and I hope you will find your way.
ReplyDeleteThanks Mary. You've gotten into the soul of the poem as noone did...
ReplyDelete