Mother's Nature - Prose

Mother’s Nature

The oatmeal tasted dusty sometimes

And that “aluminum free” pancake mix

Tasted like aluminum

And her purse went more places

Than she did

Without asking

But she was up with me-

A second sun in my morning sky

With a tousle of my hair

And a quick kiss goodbye

She’d send me outside

To meet my day.

I’m older now than she was then;

I can see her now as a younger woman

With her own set of questions

Questions about her own history, worries, trials

But as I watch me burst through the door

Through her young woman eyes

I, a small planet orbiting her incessant sun

Those womanly, wife-ly concerns

Melt away

To make the young boy, me

The center of her galaxy

Instead of the other way around

So that no matter what

Was happening in her life

I was never the wiser

My planetary evolution-

Mind-blowing to me-

Was merely adorable to her

(For I was adored)

I never saw her sun storms.

That is my mother’s nature.

--Eric Marley, December 2010