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It must be so hard to be in an empty nest.
………………………………………..
THE EMPTY NEST
My nest is as it should be now
empty.
Tidy, ordered, calm.
My babies have grown
beautifully
and flown.
Just the way I taught them to.
And my heart is full of pride
and love
still so full of love.
But oh there is an ache there
a throb, a pang.
I have given of myself in a way
that only a mother can.
So consuming is that gift
there is scarce room
for much else to thrive.
So what now?
My empty nest feels hollow
the echo of my own breath
rings in my ears.
My worries have not flown
with the fledglings,
they linger still
but now without the comfort
of a slumbering head
on a pillow up-stairs.
My imagination tells the tales
I don’t want to see
and my spare time
once so coveted
is now my enemy.
My nest is as it should be now
empty.
But I will not be empty little one.
I will fly, just like you
find my new place in this story.
Play music, bring friends
make noise and laughter
and fill the house with life
so that when you come home
you see nothing to worry about
for that will clip your beautiful little wings.
And you will remember
how nurturing your nest once was.
And you will crave the feeling of it
just once in a while.
This nest will never close
nor will I let it lose its love.
Fly, my loves, fly.
Just remember the way back home.
Donna Ashworth
Art by The Art of Jennifer Yoswa
