Online Journalling Group during the COVID-19 Pandemic
We are all so different and yet we connect,
Through our journalling group on the Internet,
Each week we explore what it means to live through,
The pandemic as mothers and mums-to-be who,
Put pencil to paper and paint on our brushes,
And make splashes of hopes and the fears that can crush us.
Kindness can linger on the tip of our tongues,
And be caught in a smile, or the air in our lungs,
And be heard in a song or the 8 pm clap,
or wrapped up in a hug or the book in our lap,
And found in forgiveness of a day gone awry,
When the oughts and the shoulds and the musts fade away.
But some days, in trying to do everything,
The work, the cooking, the chores and home-schooling,
Getting fit, making calls, sending e-mails, doing filing,
Glancing at posts of everyone smiling,
The cup that was full, is nudged and gets spilled,
One of us screams and kindness is killed.
Fear can take hold and sleep does not come,
One restlessly wonders if she’s a good mum,
And worries her child will grow up to find,
The generation before her was totally blind,
And did nothing to save us from this tangled mess,
Of loneliness, tears and general distress.
But feelings move through us and from stagnant places,
We open the flood gates and start to leave traces,
Of lines and shapes and the colours we’re feeling,
To capture the light, and shadows we’re grieving,
We honour the things that ask to be felt,
And in doing so, allow the intensity to melt.
We turn to our group, glance back at the themes,
Expressed in the poems and paintings of dreams,
And see all the richness of colours unfold,
Like a rainbow reaching out and searching for gold,
Our group holds the hope for a much needed cure,
And that art as a balm for the soul will endure.
By Ali Graves
Based on submissions to the Online journaling Group during the Covid 19 pandemic.
A poem by Ali Graves compiled of all the thoughts and experiences that mums and pregnant women in the Mumsaid group have spoken about so far.
