I hold my first grandson, who is 1 month old in my arms. His whole face and sleepy frame speaks of innocence and trust. I really have to get used to being called a Grandma now. The cycle of life loops. I am transported back to the past, back to time I first held my first born in April. We stayed in my family's ancestral home during my maternity leave. It was a hot summer month, yet I felt soothed by the abundance of mango, papaya and banana trees around the house. It was the season of ripeness and the house buzzed with energy.
As a first time mother, I was excited to dive into my new role. I followed the doctor's instructions and kept a diary. If my son would cry or have a bum stomach, my mother and grandmother and I would have a quick meeting and discuss solutions. It was a "mother's conference only" and I was lucky to benefit from their wisdom. My mother's wings were wet, but I flew confidently with their wind sails beneath me.
My son burps his baby, cradling him with strength of giant willow tree.
chickadees frolic
as tropical heat dries blankets-
i smell - milk & sunshine -
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday, hosted by Jilly.
Thanks for the visit ~
