Imperfect Prose for my first Mother's Day

Raspy breathing,
drunk on mother's milk,
threads its way through me,
anchoring on an ancient ache,
tying tight
and hauling it to the surface.

I have always wanted you~
so reads that ache.
And the coo of your voice
the kick of your leg
echo what is as old as time;
since Sarah held her promise
and Hannah gave hers back,
I have always loved you.

This body made to carry you,
These arms meant to hold you,
This heart ready to break for you~
already breaking...
with each smile
with each cry quieted in my arms.
You have made me the mother
I was from the beginning,
creating the woman I want to be.