A mother’s love
What our children fail to understand
Is that our love begins at conception
And carries on to infinity
Love for each stage is not replaced
By a different love for what comes next
But rather it is an accumulation of love
A love in all its forms that travels time
Because our children are an accumulation
Of themselves
The sum of all the phases of their lives
Their past, present, and future selves
Each one replaced yet always present.
What our children fail to understand
Is that our love begins at conception
And carries on to infinity
Love for each stage is not replaced
By a different love for what comes next
But rather it is an accumulation of love
A love in all its forms that travels time
Because our children are an accumulation
Of themselves
The sum of all the phases of their lives
Their past, present, and future selves
Each one replaced yet always present.
