Beautiful tragic broken longing

for the ones who mother us all, but have not held their own baby in their arms

for the ones who have mothered their own mothers to the other side 

for the ones whose children live in new homes because they could not care for them

for the ones who mother children that reject them repeatedly  

for the ones in the depths

for the ones in the widths

for the ones who have bled out babies that never took breath  

for the ones who watched their children lowered into the ground and felt their hearts go with them  

for the beautiful and the tragic and the broken and the longing

you are seen. Known. I'm lighting a candle and sitting with you today.