ç "Afloat"
I think so many of us feel that there are days when it's just too much and we have no time for the beauty of motherhood. We keep going fueled by pure love and determination, and somehow, the beauty seeps in anyway and that is the gift we are given. My daughter is now grown. She is a mariner, working for, and sometimes piloting, the Washington State Ferries. She has worked on the water for years in Alaska and Hawaii and now she's back in Seattle, living only a half hour from me. We are kindred spirits and I'm more grateful than words could express. |
AFLOAT
A poem by Laney Williams, 2024 to come this far in a punctured vessel hunched over, bailing buckets of weariness water seeps in and surrounds my ankles an oily sheen and the slight stench of reality those years were eons, working hours struggling to find safe harbor for myself and my small passenger never enough time to savor eyelashes as she slept, casting shadows on cheeks of softest innocence my charge to protect this magnificence not a hardship but a glad relief wondering was love sufficient to keep the chill out, to keep her warm not wanting her to ever need to bail hoping the waves gently rocked her now, as the morning steam rises and wanes to reveal the shining gulf I see I passed on the legacy to strive unable to cushion her completely I couldn’t keep the world out but the gift I could give was dedication that kept us afloat upon the blue billows and she will always know she was loved |
Cyanotypes by Kris Wetmore