The Cord

THE CORD

In the comfort of the womb, we lay
Protected, nourished, cherished, warm;
By a living cord, fed day by day
By heart of love, kept safe from harm.

Till, by nature, with the time fulfilled,
The womb, its occupant disgorged;
The cord is cut, its pulsing stilled
And yet a stronger bond is forged.

It's strengthened daily as on her breast,
Warmed, cherished, protected, fed,
Every need is soon addressed,
Every thought is trained and led.

Some think this cord too is broken,
When like a bird, the nest is flown
And to another, vows are spoken
And babe leaves mother all alone.

Yet, intervening time and space
Or other loves can't staunch the flow
Of love from mother or take its place -
They only seem to make it grow.

The heart that pumped the blood till birth
and beat beneath the feeding breast,
Still pulses, reaches 'round the earth
Through cord of love till laid to rest.

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