For Mothers

A poem to honor all you do.

Welcome to, from the desk of Rachel Leeke!

I share weekly on love + travel, including tidbits to create the adventurous life you deserve. 

My latest is 10 Years of Journaling, but you might enjoy my collaborations On Friendship, The Paradox of (Self-Loathing) Culture, and a conversation on Faith.

You can also view the entirety of my work, here.

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For Mothers

This is for mothers 
who do a special kind of math with
1 piece and 
1 part of herself
(a few) bits of what she doesn't even have 
some cream for the skin 
2 Maggie seasoning cubes and the last 
$5 from her wallet

This is for mothers 
who stay ready 
to pack a barrell
collect their sousou 
and will miss a field trip 
but never parent teacher conference

she told every instructor 
and the janitor too 
"don't be afraid to call"
right in front of you 
in full committment 
to the mild threat 

This is for mothers 
who stand between the world and their child as if 
they never 
left 
the womb
even when those same children 
wear the face of their
heartbreak with utter innocence

For those with hands 
dusted in flour 
or scented with White Diamonds at the wrist 
those with gel beneath the nails
or gloved + sanitized for work 
I've seen those hands hold 
accountable the house 
office 
community 
and school 

For the mothers who cut a slice of pie 
and tuck another under saran wrap
for the neighbor
who couldnt 
make it out  

The ones who don't raise a fork 
without prayer 
and love to place a hand on a shoulder 
with a bowed head

This is for the mothers who dont 
think a shoulder is enough 
and will palm your whole head 
with jangling bracelets 
composure and a plan of offensive 
like the Lord's personal point guard

For the ones who cushion 
the blows of the world -
who knew 
cerebral fluid sometimes 
takes human form 

This is for the mothers who 
take six things from 
the pantry and
a little bit of butter 
to make a gourmet meal

For the ones gone 
too soon but 
also never left 
and the ones who tried 
to outrun their demons 
but found them to be too fast 

There's no foundation,
no progress
no blood in the heart 
no breath in the lungs 
without you

Thank you for giving more than you had.
You've always been more than enough. 

Happy Mother's Day. 

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If you find solace, connection, or a moment of peace in my words, I invite you to strengthen my craft by upgrading your subscription, sliding me an iced coffee or slapping a book down on my desk.

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TODAY’S TIDBIT:

The Grapevine, (circa 1976), oil on canvas

Vibrant colors and signature mid-motion fluidity make Ernie Barnes's (1938-2009) work impossible to overlook. If you have yet to witness his creations up close, you have until June 15th to visit Earnie Barnes: In Rapture, the Ortuza Projects’ first exhibition of the late figurative painter.

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THE COMMUNITY CORNER:

🏡 Seeking belonging is as human as breathing. Tobi Ogunnaike tapped into all five of my senses while chronicling his search with I Don’t Know Where Home Is.

🎤 Two things are true: Megan the Stallion’s “Hiss” popped off this entire rap beef landscape, and LaChelle Chrysanne asks questions that need answers in Oh But When A Man Says It, It Hits.

💗 With collages that give off pampered black girl energy Jacquie Verbal urges us to release the struggle and start romanticizing life. I couldn't agree with her more.

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LET ME KNOW:

-Do you have plans for Mother’s Day? Are you a mother yourself?

-What’s a vivid memory you hold on to pertaining to your mother?

-What traditions or rituals do you enjoy with your family?

-What do you hope children in your environment learn from you as they grow up?

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MORE WRITING:

On Spring

On Guests

On Perfection

On Sticking to the Plan