There is no child who from its mother
did not receive the gift of life.
This gift of gifts is like no other:
given as incomplete. It’s rife
with possibility, ripe with potential,
it’s a gift that will grow and change,
it shares her likeness; referential.
With generous scope to range
this gift gives all but eternity,
this gift gives all it has to give,
this is the gift of maternity,
this is the gift of life we live.
. Of all the gifts, it’s the one that ranks,
. as worthy-most of life-long thanks.
© Tim Grace, 11 May 2011
To the reader: Put aside posterity, and a mother’s gift of life is an expression of generosity. Her gift offers nothing more than potential; it comes with no guarantee. More so, her gift is wrapped with love and good wishes; high hopes for health and happiness. As a gift it comes with no service contract; instead, it’s a social contract, an expectation of life-long commitment and care.
To the poet: Although not a classic iambic pentameter, in the Shakespearian sense, this poem’s rhythm burdens every other syllable with a weighted grip. In particular, the last quatrain is repetitive and rhythmical with its emphasis baring on the ‘gift’. And so, through technique an emphatic message is given voice.