Moving at the speed of what matters

A poem

My body does not move
the way it used to

It asks for pauses
in the middle of laundry
in the doorway

while cooking a meal
while holding a crying child

I used to call this weakness

Now I see
it is my body
rewriting love

Slowing me down
so I don’t miss
the weight of her head
on my chest
the way my breath steadies hers

Motherhood did not make me slow
it made me present

more present

There is a pardoning
for the woman I was
who could hurry through life

But there is reverence
for the woman I am
who kneels to tie shoes
who measures time
in naps, meals and heartbeats

I am not behind

Actually
I am exactly where life
has asked me to be

moving at the speed
of what matters

And it is a dream come true

A prayer answered

Warmly,