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The Second Mother.

I was raised by a single parent, but I was not raised single-handedly.

In fact, I had two mothers, though I'm only realising it now. Their co-parenting strategy was not the most conventional, or overt. Their shared custody consisted of spirit with one mother, mind and body with the other.

While one mother shaped my morals, got me ready for school each day, fed and clothed me, supported my education through her work and her words, she would also frequently take me on visits to the other mother - though I'm not sure either of us knew that at the time.

As soon as I was outside, the Other Mother would wrap her arms around me and work her magic. A rope is strong thanks to strings interwoven, and in this way, so is my spirit. Each thread of creativity and enlightenment laid down by her practiced hands; she worked fast. Each outing was another opportunity to carry out her divine weaving and reweaving, until I sit here today, strengthening by the moment as she carries out her repairs.

Without thanks, without request;

She knows just what to do.

.

Nature is not just my closest friend

She is my Second Mother.

Is it any wonder she understands me like no other?