Wednesday, December 12, 2018


He awakens
To a glimmer of something
More vast than his eyes can hold
A sunbeam dusts the windowsill
And it is morning

His eyes widen,
His smile curls
To befriend the day.
Hands outstretched
Nothing is out of reach.

He inches forward, bounds and falls
Grasping the floor with his toes
Wholeheartedly trusting
Any surface he hugs to support him

I envy him lovingly.
For his world is surely bigger than mine
The colors brighter
The borders flimsier
And all he hears are songs.

My baby, my world.
A gurgling well of life
Tenderly nourished by his source
He knows no want.

I breathe in his contentment
And it fills me.

But sometimes
When the hum of the radiator
And warm milk
Lull him into a satisfied slumber, 
I meet my own world
Waiting, wanting.

Like a shadow that silently accompanies me
Lingering at the heels of each moment
Yearning to slip back into step with me

My world, my self
The person I was before him
And maybe still am
Slighted by my hands so eager to give
Intimidated by my full heart 
And righteous mission
Drowned out by the pitter patter of my slippers
As I chase his adventures
and not my own.

Is this what it means to be a mother?
When the tears of my child shake me awake
But I sleep through my own,
I wonder where I have gone.

They say motherhood changes you. 

That you grow
To house a deeper reserve of patience
And a heart brimming with selfless drive.
You coat your words in sweetness and wisdom
You are pressed to your limits
But then your limits dissolve
And you realize you are more powerful than you ever imagined.

His day begins with the sun
And my day begins with him.

What would I find
If I were to rise before dawn?

There might be wishes and dreams of my own to be found
Drifting among the shadows in the nursery
Pining for a mother to cradle them
And bring them to life.

But then, in a blink
At the first glint of morning
A soft cry will beckon me
And my inner space will slip through my delicate grasp
To invite my precious baby into my arms.
My big boy, 
My world,
Sturdier and more self-sufficient by the day.

Have I grown?
He surely has.


  1. I love this so much, Ettel. It is truly one of the most beautiful, heartfelt proses I ever read! I am proud to call you my daughter-in-law, wife to my son Binyamin and mother to my Ber cub, Sholom DovBer. I love you so much! You touch my heart and neshama every day...and this gorgeous piece, even moreso.

  2. Thank you so much for this. So beautiful... You are a gift.