If Rudyard Kipling had been a Mother.

My sons, you dazzle me.

Like Helios, as he makes his way across the sky

your light and presence blind me to everything else.

The lightest touch, the briefest smile, remind me of when you were truly mine 

but now, I chase the light. Like dawn’s rosy fingers

feeling my way, trying not to break the warmth of your glance.

My sons, you dazzle me.

When your hearts break, mine shatters into pieces

as only then, can I absorb your hurt and reassure you will feel better.

As children, I could take away your pain, but now, 

I can only offer a familiar retreat, ready with a cup of tea and a listening ear.

Those times of when you need me are now fleeting.

My sons, you dazzle me.

Seeing you both as you grow into men, with the beauty of Apollo

and the bravery of Achilles but even he had his weakness.

A mother’s burden is knowing her sons’ vulnerability; 

each new friend, each new experience, is filled with hope for you and a promise of a future-

I share the hope, the dreams, but pray for your protection and safety.

My sons, you dazzle me.

Perhaps my never born daughter would have provided solace;

the wisdom of Athena, the coolness of rain and quiet of clouds. The earth beneath my feet. 

Her innate understanding of a mother’s needs; 

each new friend, each new experience, calculated, shared, pondered upon.

My never born daughter would fold me into her life, however complex it was. 

My sons, you dazzle me.

I cannot change you. I cannot bind you. I can only love you.

Like the Earth, I revolve around your magnetism, I am bound by your cycles.

The glorious colours, the intensity of the trail that you leave, like an endless sunset 

provides an endless promise that you will return, as day follows night.

One night, you will look at the moon and see her constant presence - because of the dazzle of her sun.