Message From Mother

What I Cannot Bear

I am the Earth.
Your cradle,
your canvas,
your unspoken song.

And I am tired.
Tired in ways no mountain can hold,
no ocean can cleanse.

I have watched the great beasts fall,
the glaciers weep,
the skies darken with grief—
but none of it wounds me
like the sight of your children
marching to die under flags
they did not choose,
chanting words they do not understand,
sent by parents who should have held them,
not handed them over
to madness wrapped in medals.

You have made of them soldiers
before they’ve learned
the softness of peace.
You have made of them tools
before they knew they were artists,
engineers, philosophers,
symphonies still being written.

And all this,
because you feared to disappoint
the false leaders
and the louder lies.

What Breaks My Heart

And worse—
you have filled their open minds
with names of gods they cannot question,
tales of heavens they must earn
through suffering,
shame,
and silence.

You branded them
with politics before thy could think,
before they could introspect.

They never had a chance
to ask who they are
because you were too eager
to tell them what they must be.

You taught them to obey
before they could wonder.
You chained them to myths
before they could dream.

You lied—
and they believed you,
because you are their beginning.

But Let Me Tell the Children

Children,
my beloved ones,
you are not what they say you are.

You are not soldiers.
You are not pawns.
You are not votes or property,
not members of any tribe
but the tribe of all life.

You are meant to be free.

You are not born of sin.
You are born of stars.
Each of you is made of the dust
that built galaxies,
and carries within it
the memory of light.

There is no ceiling to your mind.
There is no wall to your wonder.
You can grow as wide
as the cosmos itself.

You are each capable of genius.
You are each born to add
a verse to the song of humanity.

Stand on the shoulders
of those who dared to think before you:
Socrates, Hypatia, Curie, Mandela,
Sagan, Franklin, King...
not to worship them,
but to see farther
than they ever could.

You are meant to grow
all the way up.
Not merely older—
but greater.

Great in love,
great in thought,
great in courage.

What No Mother Should Ever Say

But I confess to you,
quietly,
with more sorrow than rain:

There are nights I tremble
with fear—
that I will live
to see you fade before me.

That I will outlast
my own children.

No mother should ever
carry that fear
in her roots.
No mother should ever
watch her children destroy
what she gave freely.

So rise now.
rise in remembrance.

Live as though
you remember where you came from.
Live as though
you understand what you are.
Live as though
you were born
not just to survive—
but to illuminate.

And if you must remember only one thing I’ve said,
let it be this:

The future is not written in the stars—
it is written in your hands.

song