She Is Mother

A poem by Layla Saad

Image Credit: Eric Nopanen

Gymboree class.
School pick up.
Homework.
Toddler nap time.
Toilet training.
Dinner time.
Family time.
Writing.
Editing.
Social media.
Children's bed time.

And now? Silence. Solitude. She time.

Tomorrow we begin again:
family, writing, business.
The sacred and mundane life
of being both
an ordinary human being,
and a soul on fire. 
But right now, as we approach midnight,
it's just me and Her.
My Wild Mystic Woman.

She soaks up my presence.
As I do Her's.

She fills my cup.
Reassures my heart.
And fortifies my inner strength.

She pours Divine love onto me
and into me,
and cradles me
while I surrender to the sweet repose
of Her nurturing arms,
and the fierce protection
of Her never-ending wings.

In my human life
I am a mother,
and I have a mother.
And both of these roles
are gifts from the Divine.

But in my soul life,
She is Mother.

The Great Mother.

Her nourishment
accessible to all of us - any time and all times
we call upon Her,
and get still enough
to receive Her love.

When I am here
with Her,
there is no place to go.
No-one who needs me.
No-thing that needs to be done.

No-where to be
except here.
In this moment.
Right now.

After a long day
of being human,
I savour this time
of melting into Her.

I take great pleasure
in allowing Her
to hold space and love for me,
the way I have held space and love
for everyone whose path
I have crossed today.

Tomorrow we begin again:
The sacred and mundane life
of being both
an ordinary human being,
and a soul on fire. 
But right here.
Right now.
I rest.

And She
mothers
me.