Is it a definition you seek?
A 9 month incubation period
Or the suckling of breasts
Or the nurturing
Look around you
We are all mothers
One way or another
We have nurtured a soul
We have given life, hope, love and strength
We have reached out our hands to catch a falling child
We have nursed the distraught at our bossom
We have carried an idea, feeling it grow in our core
And bringing forth brilliance

You may not have watched my belly grow
Or heard my labour cry
But did you hear my deep longing
My sacrifice, my toil, my pain
Bended knees, tear stained cheeks and an empty alabaster box
Laughter, Excitement and A heart swollen in pride
My bitter sweet tale
Beyond definitions, beyond your imagination
Beyond your grasp
Words will never be able to erase memories
To erase my past, your past, our past
They hang over us, engulfing us with their stench
They taunt us with visions of the little bow legged child I gave life
Not by biology but by emotion
The right push in the right direction
The right word at the right time
Visions of when her smile gave me life
And with lifted shoulders I proclaimed myself mother
Mother to the scrawny boy with the stutter
The woman lost finding her way through my words
The group of distressed youths
I could go on
But to what end?
You can never understand my tale
Even though you are a part of it