grateful love

A long time ago my mother gave me a copy of a poem she wrote the day I was born. I find the idea of grateful love’ deeply moving.

Little child,
Exhausted, I your Mother,
give you all the world.
So long now I have know you,
felt your heart within my own
limbs gathering strength.
From that still moment
of love creating love
I waited, breath held, till I
sensed you move beneath my hand,
an added heartbeat to my own.
I breathed for you, played music
in your ear.
Sometimes I danced
that you in embryo
might feel the Spirit of my joy.
And as you grew we watched and
both our hands
touched in turn and marvelled
at the outline of your limbs.
But still you grew
And I, clumsy with waiting
sewed your gowns
and knitted useless garments for an August child.
These endless weeks, I’ve learned
how blind can love the children
they will never see.
Deaf to sound I’ve come
to hear your silent voice.
At last with grateful love
I know you by your name.

– Gabrielle Eastwood-Ellis, 1968.

Up next the infinite game and choreography elvis legs
Latest posts postcards no country your morals eating irritating in others awakened transfiguration bits of unsolicited advice stockdale paradox hands that don’t want anything singing and dancing losing oneself given a price on remembering everything Godin on ideas three chairs growth felt in christ Freelance Dance Artists’ Working Ecology he danced listening and pain Somatics unlimited body politics vernacular activities one sentence email tips scrutiny ripeness Dance after lockdown - living with paradox mini essay Esther May Campbell a community of practice