Her brain is the visionary. The place where
dreams are stored, challenges acknowledged,
strategic plans are made.

Her heart the foundation of them all.

Her lungs give breath to their dreams.
Deep, intentional breaths
allowing them to soar.

Her shoulders hold anxieties.
Fear of uncertainty,
of the unknown.

Her arms, her hands, her fingers and toes
They are the worker bees.
The ones that feed, clothe, bathe, prepare.
Without them, no dream will ever thrive.

Her stomach holds their memories.
It knows how to stretch and morph.
It is elastic. It is their flexibility.

Her lips kiss all the hurts away.

Her back carries all the weight.
Not only figuratively, but
sometimes quite literally too.

Her pubic area aches, carrying scars
from surgeries that gave birth so long ago.
Birth to children, birth to dreams,
birth to possibilities.

Her legs and feet contain the muscles
that keep them all moving forward.
One small step at a time.

Inspired by Motherload, by Kate Baer, from What Kind of Woman.