Noreen Carden

Rookie - 393 Points (16/12/50 / Mayo)

Lifeline


Umbilical lifeline,
binds me to love.
Safely cocooned,
While God fashions my soul.
Beloved heartbeat
in sync with mine.
My metronome,
in space and time.

Deep womb tremors,
herald my time.
Expelled with a whoosh.
Screams fill my mind.
Searching my beat,
I am pulled back in time.
A comforting thump thump.
Oh Mother mine

Submitted: Thursday, March 27, 2014
Edited: Thursday, March 27, 2014

Topic(s): motherhood


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  • Freshman - 2,071 Points Bri Edwards (5/16/2014 11:05:00 AM)

    gee noreen, this is the third of your poems i've clicked on today and i've already read and commented on all three...........in the past! i'm losing sleep over this! ! bri ;) (Report) Reply

  • Veteran Poet - 3,533 Points Daniel Brick (5/8/2014 8:06:00 PM)

    I find these lines to be crucial: SAFELY COCOONED/GOD FASHIONS MY SOUL. The first line definitely described the fetus safe and nourished in the womb until that moment of birth which is swiftly and wittily described in the 2nd stanza. As for the second line, the word SOUL identifies the spiritual element in our make-up. I would see a phrase like GOD FASHIONS MY SOUL as a metaphor for our spiritual component. As a literal statement, it shows the birth mother is aided by the human midwife and the divine being in bringing her baby to life. That is a remarkable pair of helpers for each new life to begin well. (Report) Reply

  • Freshman - 2,071 Points Bri Edwards (4/23/2014 5:38:00 PM)

    cute, noreen. i kinda like it. whose screams? were you that ugly as a baby that they all screamed when you 'whooshed out? ? ? do you ever wish you could go back in? i wouldn't mind, except that, if i still remembered 'the world' from my first visit, i might dread coming out again.

    thanks for sharing. bri :)

    p.s. the umbilical cord reference reminds me of my recently-submitted poem, Too Nice? . (Report) Reply

  • Bronze Star - 7,404 Points Valsa George (3/29/2014 11:08:00 AM)

    Tied to the mother by the umbilical cord, we were sheltered comfortably inside a mother's womb until oneday expelled out from our comfort zone. Yet those sheltering hands were there to shield us in all storms and lead us through darkened paths! The memories of a mother are always sweet! A great write!

    Thank you Noreen for your sweet comment on Eagle on Wings! (Report) Reply

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