They come in white livery bringing the sun,
the Robed Heart astride her white mount,
crowds lining the royal road in anticipation.
Ahead, the castle flying the new colors,
a queen's great labors come to an end.
A shout, and the cord is cut,
the crown placed upon my head.
And I am, Mother, I am!
I fell in love with this poem initially because of its wonderful, regal, almost Medieval imagery. A sort of a fairytale, but more a Phillippa Gregory novel. Gregory always describes these royal processions on horseback, often the high point in the heroine's life. Always a sense of triumph. So striking that it is with this that the experience of childbirth is compared. Is that what it feels like, once the painful bit's over? I wouldn't know: I've never had a baby.
It's interesting that it is in being a mother that the narrator sees herself as becoming a queen. I think the reality of motherhood is rather different! In fact, it is in being a mother than the narrator sees herself as existing at all, which I find rather depressing and horribly out-of-date, but there we go. And who is the "Mother" that she addresses? Her own mother, or a spiritual Mother-Earth fertility goddess type thing, or both?
Either way, it's a beautiful and intriguing poem. I wish I'd written it, especially since so many of my poems document the experience of living as a woman. It would go nicely in my Tall Lighthouse manuscript. Shame plagiarism is illegal. And dishonest and just plain wrong.