Today’s prompt challenges to write a poem about your own road not taken – about a choice of yours that has “made all the difference,” and what might have happened had you made a different choice.
One path from times of creation is known,
a mother is who has given birth to a child.
After blood was drawn and tests were done,
my chance to motherhood was 0.001.
Morality gnawed hard and stated questions,
from my earth to the farthest earth is a child,
a child who knows not of a birth mother.
What is not adapted, love it as adoptive.
I tried this road of completing papers
waiting for years, but laws blocked the path.
Hope trotted along wrapped in determination.
Yet rules kept shattering the will to go on.
When a friend hinted of another road less taken,
I sunk with weight of what surrogacy meant
as the rocks of if this and if that spread on my way.
I carried my heart as a shovel to clear the blocks.
When Frost urged me for the road not taken,
I thank Gibrain for nudging me to openness,
that your children are not your children…
They come through you but not from you.
My child is here through a path less travelled.
He is not from me but travelling life through me.
Though I may not be his birth mother,
he will grow to know that a mother is where love is.