When we trapped time in our hands

On Motherhood: Is it love that keeps us living?

It’s been eight months. 

You’ve been on Earth for as long as my body was your home. I tell you about how I’m trying to make you a home here beneath the trees where everything pulses green.

Not a home in the way of shelter, but in the place of belonging. A place where we can root ourselves into the earth to learn from it, to give and to give and to give.

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