A human who makes humans

It is strange to realize that I am a mother

I am a human

Who makes humans 

I am the one who teaches 

What love looks like

And feels like

To small minds

That know nothing 

But what I offer them 

I am the creator of breath

Of memory

Of futures

And yet 

My days are not filled with such grand perspectives

Instead

I wash their feet

And cut their nails 

And brush their hair

As if

We will both live forever.