P o e t r y      ~   S o n g s   o f   M o t h e r   &   C h i l d   ~ 

Cradling  New  Life "


Beloved one,

 child of my womb, not yet born,

you have come to us from afar,

to nestle between the heart of man

and the heart of woman,

in song, together.

I pray that my body

be a worthy vessel for your becoming,

I pray that we may weave you a life

of health and strength,

of unity and ease and belonging.

That within me you will feel

the heartbeat of the great mother of us all,

that keeps the beat of all creation.

The same pulse that the whales sing to

 and the flowers bloom for.

Do you feel her love, my sweet?

Rising to meet you,

to claim you as her child,

of this beautiful earth.

I pray that within me you know

the breath of spirit,

ever inspiring us to feel

more deeply, the essence of our love.

See the eagles soar my little one,

And know that you too are on those wings

and that god is within you

 at every moment, becoming.

When I sing to you

know it is She of the sacred earth

that is singing.

When your father’s hands hold you

know it is He of the sacred sun,

blessing you with the power to be

all that you can be.

Welcome to our family my love,

what adventures we shall have.



I am a gateway between worlds.

Within the womb we have seeded creation

and new life is growing in the primordial waters

of the inside of the universe,

inside my body.

Soon it is asked that a passage be opened

for this life’s emergence into this earthly realm

and I find that it is worship that I seek

for this body that has become such a holy gateway.

This body I have scorned and worn at times with such disdain.

And I ask you to meet me, my love, in this worship.

To come with me in reverence

for what is carried within,

but also for the container.

I will try to move beyond

the shyness that thwarts my shining,

and the masking of my shame,

for I have been taught

that I could not possibly be

so godly.

But I find that I am.

It is the inside of the universe

that dwells within me.

It is where I will go when I die.

It is where I was born from and will ever return to.

It is the temple at which I pray

and open and surrender.

Body of the earth,

body of woman,

body of creation,

body of mine,

which has seeded love

and asks to be cracked open.

To be the portal between worlds.

Only love can open that wide.

Only love can unlock that gateway.

Only love can say yes to being the temple of birth

and of death.

I feel the deep primal being of my body

engulfing the mind

like a slow motion tidal wave

my capacity to fear is consumed.

Come with me, my love,

come inside

to worship.

Birthing  Woman "

Eternal  Womb,  Primal Unity "
The Mother Alter


I am coming, my little one.

I am following the fine gold thread of you

deep into the body.

I am coming to hold you my little one,

deep in the heart of She.

I am coming to hold you,

deep in my love.


You are calling me, my little one,

into the deep underwater currents

of the quietened mind.

You are calling me

away from the world

my little one.

You are calling me back

to my love.

 Born  Anew


This child, the phoenix born of our fire.

Encased in my lovers gaze I labor, he the gatekeeper,

the home to which my holy yearning seeks belonging.

His body binding me to our pact with love.

His hands poised to hold this life we bring to bare.

And here too is my daughter, the little mother,

showing me as she ever has the futility of my withholding.

Reminding me how inevitable and how truly divine

is this opening of all that I know myself to be,

into this love, this birthing of life.

Our sisters like ancient stones

so full of love they are.

Their smiles reminding me that my fear

is a beautiful gift and the passage

to the primal lore of growth,

where surrender is the only navigation that remains.

The midwife’s mirror

reflecting my own face back to me for salvation.

Nowhere to go but within,

to dig deep into the darkest, most tightly held earth of myself.

To stretch beyond the “No! Oh no!”

Into the ”Yes!”

Yes I am big enough to bare you my child.

Yes I am surrendered enough to carry

the great tender burden of the life-giver.

To risk loving that much,

to feel the vast oceanic pain opening me

into the mystery of how anything worth having

requires that we do a little dying,

so that we grow beyond what is safe

to encompass loves presence in our lives.

So that we are opened and entered by God’s breathe

and yearn evermore to reconcile that knowing,

that you too are god, that I too am She!

This vast ecstatic pain opening me

into the mystery of me,

the mystery of you,

the phoenix born of our fire.


Born  Anew "

  Adoration "


From deep, deep down

within the core of me

this mother-love flows,

a burgeoning bliss,

a primal quenching.

Such a tender thing you are

and oh so small

and yet such a power you draw unto you.

This bone deep devotion, seizing me,

commanding me,

drawing rivers of milk from my heart

and setting a golden honey-love

to flow through my veins,


And yet I would give more.

Your gaze the dark forever

of the place from which you have come.

You still make a home of my body,

drinking deep from the well

you have made of my heart.



Such an intricate web

of touch and smell and sound,

of taste and feeling and gaze

that brings a life forth into being.

From the seed and egg of conception

two hearts wooing life into becoming itself again. 

That lovemaking, the first crooning this child will hear,

and carry in its cells evermore…

To the journey of the womb,

with its ever-present heartbeat and song of becoming. 

A mothers myriad world of feeling 

conveyed through the blood and the waters, 

through the sound of her voice

and the muffled voices of those who await his emergence… 

To the calling forth into life that is birth, 

the rich tones of a mother’s birthsong, 

the squeezing and stretching

of skin and muscle and bone

to make way for all that love

that is being born

to the heart and to life. 

The strong hands of a father

catching that babe from his womb-home, 

guiding him with sounds of love

and tears of joy to his mother’s arms.. 

To the binding embrace of a family’s love,

a sister’s kisses... 

To the warm, sweet elixir of breast milk,

flowing like a gurgling river of love, 

filling him with songs of sleep and dreaming...

It never ceases, this web that weaves us

into the fiber of the matrix that hold us. 

As we become the weavers,

mimicking the sounds that life gifts us with, 

as we are held so we hold, 

as we are woven so we weave, 

with sound and song

and heart and light

and movement and love,

we build the thread that weaves us. 

Life ever more deeply

immersing us into motherlove.

  Motherese "

New Born

In this ferociously tender new-born being,

my animal heart whips around, wild and untamable,

blind and mute with the impulse to tend and heal

the unloved places within.

Wild with the impulse to tend the already broken

or brittle places in my children’s hearts.

So furious to love and lick clean,

to tend and to fill with that burgeoning,

fierce and heart-full mother-love.

In my haste to desperately appease

I weave wild, open stitches,

leaving holes where later ghosts will wander,

peer in and remember the lack

and remember the clumsy yearning to make right,

to drive away the sorrow,

to be the balm that soothes and heals

the hard, broken, frightened places of the heart.

So fierce my expectation,

that my love be big enough to mend the world,

for these children of my womb,

and this man too, this love of my heart.

This aching, panic-stricken impulse to be the heart of the world,

loving them all home and whole

and yet I am not that.

I feel the places in my own heart,

aching for that gracious, fierce appeasement.

And so the terrifying spaces that lie between

the love and the unknowable,

between that which is mine to love and to heal

and that which must be surrendered back to life.

How can a heart hold such a tender thing

as this new-born girl-child?

How can this Mother-love make life safe for her?

How can I bear to feel this much love,

flooding the plains of my being,

every cell aching as they fill with this furious love

and desperately roving prayer

to protect and to nourish and to nurture.

Aching as my breasts swell and pulse and overflow,

and my womb grips and relentlessly reforms itself.

Even from the most broken places of this woman’s heart

I try to slow the breath,

to thread the needle with shaking hands

that would bind the harrowed edges of my heart,

mend and tend the frayed, forgotten places

where my children might one day mourn

the absence of love’s presence

through the warp and weft of their days.

~ Lucy Pierce © 2013