Nursing

 A poem to express the love I have for nursing my baby.

A digital drawing I drew on how I view myself while nursing my child. 

Mother birds got nothing
on me. I pull nutrition out
of my body like rope. Constantly
offering you milk to fill your tiny tummy.

Two teeth and my areolas are
still Mother Natures pacifier. I
saver the painful nibbles, scared
of you aging without me.

We converted your pram into a
push-chair, most definitely too late.
We harvest your demolished trees.
Swept off your high chair.

I cannot wait to hear your voice. Run
after uneven feet, yet, I still find such
comfort out of breastfeeding my growing baby.