Here I am.

Here you are.

Where you have always been.

You are steady.

You never left.

It was I who wandered.

In my impatience.

In my weariness.

Rather than resting. Waiting.

I wander.

Light abides where you are.

Yet I wander.

Crushing insecurity draws me to drift.

Yet as I stray, they only become greater.

At your feet they silence. Muted in an instant.

Yet I wander.

Mocked by my internal soundtrack, overwhelmingly whispering defeat.

Invisible assailant smothering every breath.

Darkness encompasses the wandering.

Like a blind man in a foreign environment.

I stumble and seek. Darker and darker the further I drift.

The mocking like a immovable lyric.

Yet in this place.

Where you are steadfast.

All is perfect.

Peace reigns.

As I rest, you fill every empty part.

As I rest, you silence every deafening whisper.

You fill my lungs and at once, I am renewed.

Renewal comes in the resting.

All that was spinning mindlessly out of control is suspended.

All is resting.

No whispers.

No pressures.

No short comings.

All the demons of the wandering must surrender in the rest.

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Mage means magician, what a great way to describe the job of a momma! I’m just one momma making magic, juggling the business of life, trying to embolden other mommas along the way.

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