An Ode to a new Mom

Rocking the baby all through the night,
she rolled over the bed many times,

Aching bones and messy hair,
broken spirits, puffy eyes,
but who cares?

It is half past three but no sign of sleep,
the mother wept but silently.

"No oh no dear you can't complain,
'You are a mother', they said,
you are born to be brave."

"Sleep my baby, sleep through the night,
Let your mother rest for a while."

The baby was reluctant and wide awake,
Putting the mother in dismay.

The mother pulled out all the stops,
Finally the baby dozed off.

'Oh, I can now sleep' sighed the mother in relief,
But then she saw the unwashed feeders,
the unfolded clothes and the leftover beef.

'This is not happening,' she murmured in disbelief.
But this was a story of every single day,
A story she cannot escape or delay.

A mother's chores are countless and perpetual,
Just so that it becomes a ritual.

Yet, as time will pass by,
These little feet will grow in the blink of an eye.

She can then rest as much she wants,
'but what about her youth that has already gone?'

'Age is just a number,' they replied,
She will have plenty of time once the kids fly high,

"What about her bones that will start to crack?
Who will look after her kids when she is not well?"

Such questions keep rising in a mother's mind,
She knows her responsibilities are eternal and her thoughts kind.

But a mother also needs rest, care and respect,
Amidst all the roles she play,
striving to be perfect,
each and everyday.