Untethered...

Where girlhoods’ coronation placed a scepter in her hand

She battles the temptation to be carefree once again

But love, though lenient at times cannot condone such flair

To toss with glib abandonment its elements of care

Go east or west or north or south, a mother’s heart is bound

And tethered by the laws of love; prayer is her stopping-ground

For love, her utter Wanting crowns her with both rose and thorn

The having and the holding prelude to a heart half-torn

She cups her hands to cradle one wee moment, but its gleam

Succumbs where Time’s grand ladle spills its tug-of-warring stream

Soon worlds drawn on a drop of dew and dawn’s pink-puddled mist

Dissolves where Duty appoints new commissions to be kissed

Time does not reimburse us for play-things it steals away

But rather it immerses us in blessings of Today

It does not barter with the past, still, every now and then

She smiles to hear her children laugh... untethered once again

© Janet Martin

I would feel stripped soul-naked to be 'untethered' from heart-strings, but oh, its tug is bittersweet...