Picture this:
You feel the rumblings of poetry stir within the volcanic creative cave in your being. You decide to see the world as art and everything as a manifestation of art’s potential. Life becomes more than the days blurring into weeks but something that hums with creation alongside you.
You no longer see leaves but a combination of greens that flow together, strokes of shadows forming on their cheeks, aching to be captured and yearning to be appreciated.
You no longer see your lover asleep next to you but love’s force beating through their veins as they explore the wildest realms of the dreamer.
You no longer see your child but a walking reincarnation of pure possibility, a contagion designed to infect the world with curiosity once more.
You no longer see birth as simply scientific and clinical but as the most godly act possible. You see ribs decimated before your eyes as you realise there’s no way we could come from a bone when the womb is pulsing and portaling between worlds.
Art joins you in your reality, it shows you life filter-free. You fall in love, over and over. You sip your possibili-tea
Life is good.
This Sunday the 28th at 4 PM AWST I will be hosting an intimate workshop for writing your birth story. Anyone who has birthed in any capacity to any term is welcome to join and explore the somatic art of storytelling.
However, that isn’t the only reason I gathered you here today.
I thought that finding poems by mothers, for mothers would be a walk in the park, after all, creating a human from scratch could be considered the pinnacle of creativity — what would a published poem or two be for these people?
Well, lemme tell you — like most things good, it wasn’t until the 1970s second wave of feminism that people started considering works written by mothers, let alone works about motherhood to be creations worth publishing in serious publications.
We have watched a similar trajectory with people sharing their birth stories and the domino effect this has had on improving the birthing experience. While we still have a way to go before it is fully supportive of every experience desired and possible, we won’t get there without telling our stories.
My workshop is both for telling your story for the sake of telling it and for the healing that comes from that on a personal, communal, and spiritual level.
“Birth your story has been the catalyst for my healing journey. After a traumatic birth experience, so opposite to my first birth and the births I had witnessed beforehand, I was drowning in unexpressed emotions and an urge to scream my story from the rooftops. Erica created a safe space for me to not only express this alongside others who had their dream birthing experiences but also guided me through injecting true emotion into my story and ever so slowly begin to find a way to flip it into a more empowering one. Although the writing prompts weren’t all about poetry, I found that poetry was flowing through me and it has become a way for me to tell my story with the emotion it needed. Honestly, this is the greatest gift. And now I can’t stop writing. Thank you Erica!”
- GEORGIA, mum of two
“MOTHER,” NIKITA GILL
The water of her womb, your first home.
The body she pulled apart to welcome you to the world.
The spirit in you she helped grow with all she knew.
The heart that she gave you when yours fell apart.
You are her soft miracle.
So she gave you her eyes to see the best in the worst.
You carry your mother in your eyes.
Make her proud of all she watches you do.
Let’s Ponder:
Reflect on the ways your mother's experience, both physical and emotional, has influenced your sense of self and personal growth. How can acknowledging and honoring these aspects of motherhood contribute to your healing journey?
Explore the symbolic representation of carrying your mother in your eyes and the concept of making her proud in all your endeavors. How might focusing on the values and wisdom she instilled in you serve as a source of motivation and inspiration for your personal growth and actions?
ALFA
Love has found me many
times during this lifetime.
Hopelessly besotted and
rocked to the core…
But the love I have for
my children is the only
love that split my soul
with each birth, and still
miraculously multiplies
with each year I am
their mother
&
A. SHEA WRITER
A mother’s heart
is never her own.
Bits of it are sown
into the souls
of her daughters
and her sons
Let’s ponder:
Imagine love as a mischievous painter splashing colors on the canvas of your soul, just as the speaker's soul is described as "split" with each birth. How might the vibrant hues of love have shaped the masterpiece of your own soul, especially in the adventure of parenthood?
Picture love as a magical garden that somehow manages to grow even more enchanting with each passing year of being a parent. If your love for your children were a plant in this garden, what kind of blossoms might it bear, and how would they express the unique magic of your journey as a parent?
HOW DO I TELL YOU — KAREN MCMILLAN
Future mum
I want to hold you
Super tight
I want to give a little warning
Without giving you a fright
The trials that you face
Flash before my eyes
Then I remember
This is your journey
Not mine
Besides
How do I really describe
The Good
The Bad
And the LOVE
How do I tell you that
The seas are kind of rough
How do I explain that
You'll forever be enough
Because it's not like the adverts
It's not like they said
It's better in some ways
But just not how you expect
There's beauty to be found
In all the change
And the mess
In that strange sacred space
Between new beginnings
And the end
I want to tell the truth
Without filling your head
I want to speak the things
That will stand you in good stead
I want to get real
Without igniting dread
So I took pen to paper
And wrote this book instead
Let’s ponder:
Thinking about the speaker's intention to give a heads-up about parenthood without causing panic, how would you personally share the ups and downs of parenting with a friend? What real talk would you sprinkle in to help them navigate the journey with eyes wide open?
The line "There's beauty to be found in all the change and the mess" suggests finding the silver lining in chaos. Have you stumbled upon unexpected beauty during a challenging time in your life? How might that insight inform the way you'd casually share advice with a friend approaching parenthood, emphasizing the positives without sugarcoating the realities?
Hunting for these poems showed me how little there is out there in the way of well-written poems by mothers, for mothers about mothering. Not children writing about their mothers, or mothers writing about their children, but mothers writing about themselves, as mothers. The expectations, the weight, the joy, the connection, the constant need for rebirth and pivoting — I don’t see enough of it.
I know for myself, I watch myself feel fear of confessing that I don’t have it together. That I am not superhuman, in fact, I am purely, beautifully, ordinarily human — not a single superpower in my belt. I am just a very normal person with very normal limits. That motherhood in my experience, is a paradox of ordinary and completely magical but I am a human amongst it all.
Where are those poems? About motherhood with mothering at the center of the story?
I hope you write it, I hope I do too.
If it’s at my event — that’s marvelous. And if it’s in the notes on your phone while you wait for your kid to fall asleep, equally as fantastic.
As usual, tell me your favourite pieces of poetry.
Extra request — share your own in the comments.
Bonus reminder: come to my workshop
The poem 'How do I tell you' spoke so much to me. I've always been on a continuum about whether I want to be a mother or not. We're taught by our society, one way of how it should look, yet, it's our explorations that allow us to see there are many different ways to be a parent, it's finding the ways that work for you. This pome brought the softness back to my thoughts around parenthood. A lot of this article also reminded me of how I feel as a mother to myself and also, as an Artist, to my creations. It's a real intimate experience to have a small insight into the 'birthing process' before it's in the physical sense to a human. I think art is teaching and preparing me in little ways on how to show up to parenting in a way that nourishes both the child and parents. Thank you for these beautiful poems and prompts. 💖