The Heaviest Burden

a motherís day poem

The heaviest burden, an obligation, a responsibility, expectations where should have been acceptance, creative opportunity, choices and freedom. Exemplifying todayís repressive tendencies where should have been respect and dignity. The object of historyís oppression where should have been glory and reverence. Stained red what should have been painted. Marked by an illness that should have been known as life. But in a world based on death, life becomes a dangerous enemy and the misinformation flows through the generations, and with each lie the heaviest burden becomes heavier.

Lifeís poised prodigies turning on each other. The inherent risks, and yet always the strength to continue the charade, which is only a charade when more credence is given to the lies and disinformation.

Life is not for death. Children are not raised to staff armies and death factories Women do not give birth to help carry out genocide. The future is not born to be destroyed, is not cared for to turn on itself, but to live and be happy.

I cannot bear children. I donít have the guts. But you, your strength is an inspiration and should be regarded as an omen that all is not lost, hope remains and through you flows love, life, truth and our future where the heaviest burden transcends all expectations and perceptual limitations and lifts itself off of your backs and gently lights upon us all a world where motherhood is not shamed by giving it one day a year for reflection.

Thank you. My wish for you is never another Motherís Day, but a life of respect and dignity, a future that is worth raising and a place for you forever reserved in our memories.