Bubbles (My poems): A Child Is Not a Poem. A Poem Is Not a Child.

This is a metaphor.

How do you learn to spell?
Blood, sky & the sun,
your own name first,your first naming,
your first name,your first word.
- Spelling by Margaret Atwood

Your first Naming.
Naming your First.
Feeling the power and
privilege of raising a human
Child
to grow into a human
Adult.

One who would make decisions
based on answers
you provided and birthed in
hidden memories.
The burden of parenting
is not in the nightly
Awakenings.
The physical demands of motherhood
can be handled
She was created by an invisible hand.
yet she will be raised under my
Words.

Do I know the words?
Aren’t I still seeking to form
the vowels in my mind that build the world
into words I can consume?
Yet those consonants are like thorns in my throat.
I cough up words and hope
they will spring themselves into an umbrella
for my child to use in downpours.