Friday, October 4, 2019

To Stephen's Mother

I'm a mother too.
Three children

It's a tough gig sometimes
The heart bursting love of kissing their silent downy cheeks at night
To the overwhelming guilt of a bad day they didn't deserve
Or maybe they did
I question myself daily.

I worry about who they will grow up to be
Have I done enough.
Will they be kind, creative, compassionate
Or cynical and cross
Or maybe a little bit of everything
Like the rest of us. 

I watched your son last night
Before he took to the stage at his own gig
He sat in the bar with friends
Nervous but appreciative. 

A sudden interruption marched up to their table
Young man
I watched your son speak to him with grace and kindness
And saw his father's tired embarrassment turn to gratitude and pride.
A sense of relief.

Later I watched as your son picked that young man out in the crowd,
Name checked him from the stage 

Eye to eye
True connection. 

I worry about who my children will grow up to be
Will they be kind, creative, compassionate
Have I done enough

He calls you The Gardener
But he is the greatest thing you have ever grown. 

Stephen James Smith is a spoken word poet from Dublin and is currently touring Ireland and the UK. More info and tickets available here:

His poem The Gardener made me weep.

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