Dancing Barefoot

‘Forget not that the earth delights to feel you barefeet and the winds long to play with your hair’ -Kahlil Gibran

Mother Bridge of Love – New Book from Barefoot Books August 8, 2007

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Once there were two women
Who hardly knew each other
One you do not remember
The other you call mother
Two different lives shaped to make yours one
One becoming your guiding star
The other became your sun
The first gave you life
And the second taught you to live in it
The first gave you a need for love
And the second was there to give it
One gave you nationality
The other gave you a name
One gave you the seed of talent
The other gave you an aim
One gave you emotions
The other calmed your fears
One saw your first sweet smile
The other dried your tears
The age old questions through the years;
Heredity or environment -
which are you the product of ?
Both my darling – both
And two different kinds of love!

 

‘Mother Bridge of Love’ is a new book from Barefoot books www.mybarefootbooks.com/JoannaClarke which comes out next month.  It’s a beautifully illustrated version of a well-known poem about adoption. It is geared primarily towards adoption from China but also tackles general issues around adoption, step-parents etc. Proceeds are going towards the Mother Bridge of Love institute which is run by XinRan, author of the Good Women of China and Sky Burial, an institute helping to bridge the cultural gap between China and the West and specifically helping adopted children. http://www.motherbridge.org

I am adopted myself and was reunited with my birth mother only 2 years ago. Nothing in this world can prepare you for this moment,  the journey ahead or the multitude of feelings and emotions that accompany it. We love our adoptive mothers but we also feel a profound sense of loss for our birth mothers and often a deep need to reconnect. Over recent years it has become more acceptable for Adoptees to trace there birth mothers and families, but this takes enormous courage.  Many adoptees fear that  searching for their birth mother may be seen as being disloyal and even ungrateful to their adoptive parents and searching and reuniting can be racked with feelings of guilt and pain.How wonderful to read this book, to have my own experience and feelings reinforced and validated.

 I have two mums. I love them both for what they have given me, I love them both for who they are, I will always love them both, my adoptive mum can never take the place of my birth mum, and equally my birth mum can never take the place of my adoptive mum. I have two mums and it is ok to have two mums, love is not exclusive, not even motherly love.

So beautifully and elequently written, this poem and the breathe takingly beautiful illustrations, expresses what so many adoptees feel but find so hard to put into words for others to understand.

This book has truely touch my heart and I will treasure it for a life time. This book is for all ages and I would recommend it to any adoptee old or young, but it is also a wonderful book for birth mums and adopitive mums and indeed anyone whose life is touched by adoption or who works in the area of adoption.

You can order this book at www.mybarefootbooks.com/JoannaClarke

 

Into the light July 31, 2007

Filed under: Adoption, Adoption reunion, My Art, Thoughts — mypumpkinpie @ 12:07 pm

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I only found my biological father 18 months ago in just over a year he was gone. I only had a year to know him, no sooner had I found him than I lost him once more. But in finding him I found a missing part of myself and in that he gave me so much. He touched my heart and still remains there. I painted this picture just before he died. Our paths crossed for a few precious moments, two free spirits on our journeys through life. Now he journeys on into the light.

In this poem I remember him.

Do not stand by my grave and weep

I am not there I do not sleep

I am a thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glint on snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain

I am the gentle autumn rain

When you wake in the morning hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight

I am the stars that shine at night

Do not stand at my grave and cry

I am not there, I did not die

Makah Indian Poem