Whoever I am and wherever I go, I know there is still a place for me inside you.

Looking back at the time I spent in my mother’s womb I realize that thought should be an impossible feat. But I have an imagination, an imagination that my mother always encouraged.

Why mother first you may wonder. Because my mom, she was my everything; until my memory came into play and I recall father and other siblings.

In her womb, my nostrils were not moving nor did I breath, yet I did not suffocate. I don’t recall running or my legs stretching, yet I climbed the walls of the womb I was enclosed in. I don’t recall conducting an orchestra, yet I was free, my arms pointing and gesturing and moving. I often swam in hers waters. The waters of the whole world, my world.

Now that I am born into this world of larger, much larger proportion; I remember the preparation my mother gave me and behold a new day every day. Rejoice in living.

Now my nostrils move and I breath by myself yet at times events would want to suffocate me if I let them. I feel lost at times looking for the place of safety that I was accustomed to.

Sometimes we allow life’s reality to be the limits of our world.

Remember we can be anything we want to be. Our mothers have prepared us already.

So I look back at the phrase: Whoever I am and wherever I go, I know there is still a place for me inside you.

Happy mothers day, Mama.

Published by Ken Gwira

Ken Gwira is a self-taught artist living in the USA. Aside from wood sculpture, he uses words and images to help people see life through a different lens [o].

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