Rest in my arms and be safe: a poem of new motherhood

by Hilary Jacobson | Jul 31, 2022 | motherfood, poetry

Rest in my arms and be safe: a poem of new motherhood

Hilary reads: Rest in my Arms

Greetings my newborn,

My heart says hello.

You’ve come such a long way

To lie in my arms.

We’ve got such a long way

Together, to go.

So rest in my arms

and take strength.

So many thoughts now

Pass through my mind.

The world is so hard

And I’m frightened for you.

But now I feel trust,

And trust is our bond.

So rest in my arms

And be safe.

This brief time together

Quickens our hearts

So that we can travel

Our long road ahead.

You drink from my breasts,

I drink from your eyes.

We rest in Life’s arms,

And take strength.

by Hilary Jacobson – 2000

“Rest in my Arms” was originally written as lyrics for a song that mothers sing to their newborns.

Blue Borage Time – a poem of awe in the garden

by Hilary Jacobson | Dec 6, 2021 | poetry

Your furry leaves and blue starflowers

Summon bees at all the hours,

Throughout spring and throughout summer,

Summon all the honey mummers.

How their nimble legs alight

Upon your blossoms’ azure shade,

They stop and nip your sticky dew,

Then fly away.

Those bumbles, yellows, tiny blues,

Drunk – imbibing your sweet nectar –

Take no note of this defector

Spellbound by the view.

All I long for, all day long

As here I sit and hear their song,

(the buzz and zip as they dash past,

performing their important task)

Is just to sit and sit just here

‘Til your blue starflower light appear.

Sweet borage light—so brief, and clear!

When furry leaves wilt and winter is near,

Restore my will to grow,

Renew my strength to grieve,

For all new life will pass,

All starflowers go to seed.

Hilary Jacobson, 2020

Love and Nourishment are One – a poem of healing for mothers with low milk supply

by Hilary Jacobson | Dec 6, 2021 | breastfeedinggrief, poetry

Love and Nourishment are One – a poem of healing for mothers with low milk supply

I still need to hold you near

and feel your dear mouth close

about that tender part of me

where no milk flows.

This sacred thing that should have been,

this rite of every mother,

will not now, nor ever be

a bond, one to the other.

Yet though I feel this utter loss,

a nagging emptiness,

I also smell your warm skin close,

know you don’t need me less.

Song and smile, touch and glance,

we dance our dance until –

scent and hand, hold and clasp,

it’s clear: I love you still.

If love and nourishment are one,

and I love you just the same,

then let me give you love, my love,

that does not bend to shame.

If love and nourishment are one,

perhaps that’s all we need:

to trust our bond is ever here,

regardless how we feed.

Hilary Jacobson, 2004