#nurturing
By: The Drifter from Heaven
In my mother’s garden, where blossoms bloom and sway,
A symphony of colours dances through the day.
Where birds sing sweet melodies and insects frolic and play,
Amongst the flowers, in the sunlight’s gentle ray.
In my mother’s gaze, memories of yesteryears reside,
Echoes in a kaleidoscope where love and joy abide.
The garden—a gate of wonder—where dreams and sorrows collide,
Where laughter and tears are entwined, like vines upon the wall,
A bittersweet symphony that echoes through it all.
She tended her garden, nurturing life within,
As if they were her own children, born of love and kin.
With every seed she sowed, a piece of her soul took root,
And with each seedling that sprouted, a new and tender fruit.
Like a story yet untold, she cradled every bloom—whispering secrets sweet,
Until in the silence, her love found a gentle, steady beat.
Apr 1
Apr 1, 2026 at 12:24 PM UTC
People love fields,
fields of flowers.
Society say they're beautiful.
They grow in parks,
they are anywhere life lingers.
Even in the dull city, they bloom.
And everyone picks them,
"I love this flower, I'll take it home and put it in my vase!"
People pick the flowers, in an "act of love".
Then, people bring them home,
to put in their vases,
where inevitably they will wilt.
If you truly romanticise them,
you'll care for them,
you'll water them daily,
you'll make sure they're in a spot where the sun hits,
you'll make sure they thrive.
And I'll do the same,
for you.
Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 3:30 PM UTC
"The sand box now is empTy
The toys resT on the shelF
The house is almosT silenT
As I siT here by my selF.
Maybe I Should build a casTLe
Or brush thaT old dolls hair
And painT The rusTed swing seT
To leT them Know I care,
For they helped me raise my
Children
to Face the challenges oF life
Where building, climbing, nurTuring
Will carry. them Through sTrife"
©1987JMF
Nov 16, 2025
Nov 16, 2025 at 3:15 PM UTC
Deep-down fears rest quietly.
Across inherited worlds,
voices sound so differently—
some wrapped in flowers,
some held in warm homes,
some loved through dinner and dates;
yet elsewhere, solitude is companion,
days measured in nurturing tasks,
where sharing ends yet walls are shared.
Nov 2, 2025
Nov 2, 2025 at 9:18 AM UTC
FRIENDSHIP:
All in the same ship or
All in the same boat.
Friends do their best
To understand things
Shared by friends.
FRIENDSHIP TO SOME:
The interests of a politician
An agenda manipulating
Your position.
FRIENDSHIP TO ME:
It is not a dictatorship
It does not grab the wheel
It always makes you feel
You are in control.
Friendship does not focus
On fates remains
It cloaks your fears and
Shares the blame.
Friendship is not a forfeit
It closes ears and eyes
To those that accuse and
Deny though on a certain
Level it always remembers
Because its failsafe can
Never forget.
DEEPER FRIENDSHIP:
And then there is a
Deeper purer friendship
Based upon unconditional
Love and mutual respect
Which catapults it
Into a whole new
Dimension of caring and
Nurturing
Which
Transcends simply caring
For its own and glorifying
Its bones in a well-kept
Grave of the status quo
But grows into an
Uncanny respect and
Caring for others
Beyond cliquish and
Familial bonds.
FRIENDSHIP'S BASIS:
Often made of the
Imperfect
Of things that may
Seem
To contradict.
It often overlaps
Most relationships.
And though it may not
Seem to be a monolith
We must sometimes stand
Alone on plains unknown.
Jul 8, 2025
Jul 8, 2025 at 9:11 AM UTC
Her silence speaks louder
than any word could.
Tubes, charts, and prayers—
my love navigates them all.
Jan 11, 2025
Jan 11, 2025 at 4:13 PM UTC
Dawn
by Michael R. Burch
for Beth and Laura, and all good mothers
Bring your peculiar strength
to the strange nightmarish fray:
wrap up your cherished ones
in the golden light of day.
Amen
Originally published by The Lyric
Keywords/Tags: Motherhood, good mothers, maternal, nurturing, caring, strength, courage, love, compassion, tenderness, human angels, golden light
Apr 3, 2020
Apr 3, 2020 at 1:53 AM UTC
Outgoing closet
With a shy hanger
Covering private parts
From open exposure
Sometimes a family
Shares the same space
But not the same views
Feb 3, 2020
Feb 3, 2020 at 3:35 PM UTC
Not restricted by it. Only restricted by it’s tame. Bright and vigorous! Tempting to be better than a dying phase. Light prompting the taming call of its energy. Becoming more vibrant. Conclusive to it’s claims. Parting ways without mentioning why dying light is its fate. Being tamed. Tempting to hold dear energy supplies for it’s withering gaze. Prompting to feel (it shouldn’t matter). Am I wanting to become more of a spectacle, or something?! I’m a dying light. Not the uptick in brighter horizons. Just the low dimming effect of a once broader frequency. Detesting the restrictions altogether. Nothing better to accept one’s fate. Rather then battling one thinking that (holding on, is a miracle). No! It’s a natural death sentence. And I’ll gladly pay it! If it means I get to be myself again. Dying light pays respects to its own slurring pause. I seeee…I seeeeeee… IIII…seeeeeeeee!!! I’m causing my own fate. Feeling the tame of its restrictions falling off. Like chains buckled to every brightened photon in the complex. Bright and vigorous! Just like last time. This was different. A struggle thinking (what isn’t a self damaging effect)? But a structure of succession! Never temping my dying phase. Which is smarter then accepting varieties. The slurring pause was no more. Restrictions were no more. I am dying light. And I will shine on other broken lights losing their light in self-deluded stages.
Oct 10, 2019
Oct 10, 2019 at 9:14 PM UTC
This is the sad song
Of men and women
Who create offspring
When they don’t like children.
They set their minds up
To repeatedly bear them
To avoid askance looks
And any open criticism.
So they suffer and complain
About what a heavy burden
It is for them to have to
Put up with their children.
Each day with the rugrats
Nets no child any praise
They see not much beauty
In the offspring they raise.
If a soul deprived mother
Never felt love of her own
She has none to spare,
No patience to condone.
The talk of these parents
Is of not having any peace,
No time of their own then,
No feeling of surcease.
It’s as if a child born
Has but few years to grow
Before needing to be an adult
Who will automatically know.
That they must know to parent
The sick adult needy one
Who doesn’t seem to like them
Or anything much they have done.
This is the sad tune of those
Who made many awful choices
But still have no use for any
Of loving, advising voices.
It’s a song too many sing;
The music heart breaking,
Yet few of those parents know
The sense of trust they are taking.
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 8:25 PM UTC
I'm so sure you woke up next to your wrong side and said
"Nah, I'm gonna win today because you're not my partner in crime today"
It's efficient the way I can change perspectives to what I need at the moment
It's a chance I need to take in order to make believe I can make it.
No matter the consequences
It's about how much I can win today
Before the air in my lungs give out
And the skip in my feet give in
I hope you know how much I care, because you were always there
Your presence is always around
It made me believe in the right ideas
It made me believe I can do no wrong
I know I can be cruel sometimes
But I can be a good person
When the day comes that I don't try
Please remind me with a gentler nudge
Gentler than the way my mouth is quick
And my hands are heavy
Kinder that the daggers in my eyes
When I judge every boy who is in love
Meeker than a toddler going up to an elder brother
Asking him to help fix any precious moment he has left in this stage of his life
I can't help but see the light of day in the most bleak moment
It's everything I ever wanted
It's everything I ever hoped for
It's not the light at the end of the battle
It's the light every moment continued to become alive for
Hope is not a jousting contest
Where the truth fights with the facts
It's about something that you need cultivated
It's about something you need to promise
Make that pact with yourself
You cannot be wise
If you cannot admit to not knowing.
Make believe in the truth about yourself
That you can be carefree, with responsibility.
I love you
I hope you never lose the ability to be loving
Loving others with the light and strength that you know needs to be worked on
Be a light for others
Be a light that blind in strength
A light that blinds out complacency
A light that grows plants
And creates life
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 1:06 PM UTC
I would love to meet all of my selves;
To dine with, and hold clarifying conversations.
I have long been wary of my many personalities,
embraced them, and cherished each one of them.
I wish I could individually meet each one of them.
To hear them introduce themselves;
To hug me and comment on the pleasure of meeting me.
To understand them, as seperate persons outside of me.
To hear their stories,
what groomed who they are;
to hear about their days,
and talk about their feelings;
for them to tell me if I give them enough of me.
Do they even like me, or like being a part of me?
They mould who I am;
They are who I am.
They carry me when I am at my weakest;
They are weak with me, cry with me -
laugh with me, love with me,
and wander with me, at 3:55 am.
Would I enjoy them,
and want them to remain a part of my life?
Are they individuals with stories,
who also need to be heard?
Part of being understood is being heard.
We learn new things about ourselves all the time;
Maybe, that is how we meet our own selves:
In Epiphanies about our identities.
Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 10:18 AM UTC
*She's fragile, delicate, and tender at heart,
And even the slightest hurt could tear her apart.
But love her right, and kindness upon her bestow,
And stand back & watch her beautiful heart grow...*
#BlueRain
iv.29/09/16
Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 5:25 AM UTC
*
the mothering love
of letting go
silently keeping
a corner
warm the nest
ready to welcome
anytime me
the wounded bird
a small body
still crossing oceans
Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 9:20 AM UTC
“You are worthless!”
Somebody close to me said.
“Not worth a ****
It was somebody in my head.
“Never have been.”
The ******** went right on
“And never will be.”
It never has been gone.
My entire life
These words have been there.
I have tried hard
To act like I don’t even care.
But they hurt me
Took joy from all I try to do
And bring me down
Because I fear they are true.
I have tried hard
To prove that I do have worth,
I’m not, nor have I ever
Been the **** of the earth.
I have worked hard
To make my way among men,
When I start to believe,
The chanting starts over again.
Something in me
A different kinder sort of a voice
Gently urges me
To accept that I have a choice.
It softly tells me
That early on I was damaged
And I must accept
My self-confidence was savaged.
So, slowly changes
Come about in what I am feeling
And I see more
Of what cards fate is dealing.
I changed people
That I let into my life today.
I let the past go
And let those voices go away.
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC
You were the Barbie jeep engineer.
You were the 5-card pinochle player.
You were the gripe to do the dishes.
You were the patient mall bench sitter.
You were Elvis Presley records and
paper backed crime novels.
You were my new antivirus software.
You were the chatter in the middle of an
NCIS episode.
You were the "It's okay, sweetie" on the
other end of the phone.
You were the voice of every bathtime storybook.
You were the baking soda on my first wasp sting.
You were the green Ford Escort parked
outside my middle school every afternoon.
You were the loudest clap at my graduation.
You were the sticky caramel corn crumbs in the
living room that held the place together.
You were the laughter
You were the toolkit when my pictures hung crooked.
You were the cornerback baker, the pecan pie maker,
dance recital seat saver and the road trip driver.
You were the puppy-dog pill-giver and the
broken heart mender.
You were the church goer and the goodness seeker.
You were the black-haired teaser and the
very best secret keeper.
You were a prideful wig wearer and
wheelchair rider.
You were a cancer fighter.
You were my first call.
You still are.
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 4:43 PM UTC
Have you ever been angry?
So angry you've scared yourself.
Because for a second you saw that face staring back from within.
An immense depth fast approaching.
So absent of light the only reason you caught a glimpse was those eyes.
Beaming back at you with illumination so frightening your core began to shudder and rumble.
Crumbled down and watched this beast claw its way out.
Over rock and mortar. Through coarse cage of steel.
Those cold eyes staring down - helplessly watching.
This beast was once kept sealed.
Who gave it this key to destruction.
This shapeless fluid in motion soulless tragedy.
Black velvet drape dipped in fiery energy.
Pure hate which had been compressed for eternity.
Now concentrated and intent on wreaking havoc.
I sent my armies. I sent them all.
Countless deaths and yet I sent more.
Quick slaughter - not the painless type.
This beast they could not stall.
Thrashes of bodies. Clawed and torn.
Festering flesh flying from fallen.
Axe, Sword and Mace soaked,
dripping in warm fresh blood-pounding hate.
Shatters of armor and unrecognizable corpses.
What do I do?
It seeks me as a vessel - to be worn.
I can feel the hate changing me.
Quickly now or I'll soon deform.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 9:01 PM UTC
Looks like the law is outdated
And life is ******
The wrong traits tainted
Why millions don't make it
And elite want the nations brain dead
Tell the truth get incarcerated
Tell a lie and get elected
Educate yourself and be objective
Inspire and be creative
Leave a canvas for the underrated
Then the future will be painted
Each style is affective
Every style is effective
Universe is ancestry generater
Life is the relative consumer
While food is sprouting
And humans growing
Then humans nurturing
Law not needed for existing
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 3:58 PM UTC
Don’t ever say
Don’t tell me,
That you’ll never
Love me ever.
Please don’t say,
That you won’t stay
Or be with me
Forever.
I’ll hush you with
My lullabies
And sooth your aching
With my sighs.
I’ll touch your lips,
Caress your cheek
With fingertips
And soothing balm.
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC