Sometimes, often really,
I can’t remember not being 
a mother.  Who was I?
I know I had similar views 
of the world, what matters,
what I wanted to be.
Compared to being a mother,
my dreams were small,
somewhat shallow. 
My world expanded four 
times its original size.
My vision, all my senses 
intensified with each
daughter who came 
through me.
I am more because you 
created me, the one
you call mother. 

KW
6/27/24