God Our Mother

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Allison Woodward’s poem “God Our Mother” captures the raw spiritual reality and divine manifestation mothers are:

To be a Mother is to suffer;

 To travail in the dark,

 stretched and torn,

 exposed in half-naked humiliation,

 subjected to indignities

 for the sake of new life.

To be a Mother is to say,

“This is my body, broken for you,”

And, in the next instant, in response to the created’s primal hunger,

“This is my body, take and eat.”

To be a Mother is to self-empty,

 To neither slumber nor sleep,

 so attuned You are to cries in the night—

Offering the comfort of Yourself,

 and assurances of “I’m here.”

To be a Mother is to weep

 over the fighting and exclusions and wounds

 your children inflict on one another;

 To long for reconciliation and brotherly love

 and—when all is said and done—

To gather all parties, the offender and the offended,

 into the folds of your embrace

 and to whisper in their ears

 that they are Beloved.

To be a mother is to be vulnerable—

To be misunderstood,

 Railed against,

 Blamed

 For the heartaches of the bewildered children

 who don’t know where else to cast

 the angst they feel

 over their own existence

 in this perplexing universe

To be a mother is to hoist onto your hips those on whom your image is imprinted,

 bearing the burden of their weight,

 rejoicing in their returned affection,

 delighting in their wonder,

 bleeding in the presence of their pain.

To be a mother is to be accused of sentimentality one moment,

 And injustice the next.

 To be the Receiver of endless demands,

 Absorber of perpetual complaints,

 Reckoner of bottomless needs.

To be a mother is to be an artist;

 A keeper of memories past,

 Weaver of stories untold,

 Visionary of lives looming ahead.

To be a mother is to be the first voice listened to,

 And the first disregarded;

 To be a Mender of broken creations,

 And Comforter of the distraught children

 whose hands wrought them.

To be a mother is to be a Touchstone

 and the Source,

 Bestower of names,

 Influencer of identities;

 Life giver,

 Life shaper,

 Empath,

 Healer,

 and

 Original Love.

Allison Woodward’s poem God Our Mother.