Mum by Darren Chesterfield


Expect great things of me because of you.


Sometimes I may seem like a tree, that’s set away from others.

Planted long ago amongst, your sons and with my brothers.

More often than you’d care to see, my growing makes you worry.

My branches grow more out than up, and I seem not in a hurry.

But this is what I want to be, an independent sapling.

Oblivious to all the other, growing that is happening.

I’m sure that up is just the place, that I should be going.

But up’s a distance I will travel, once I am done knowing.

What it’s like to be a tree, with innocence and passion.

That lives just like a normal tree, but grows in its own fashion.

You’ll love me just the same as if, I’ve grown just like the others.

Because you’re simply just the best, of all of nature’s mothers.

It’s true that I am different, and I know I’m painfully prone.

To take this thing called growing, and head upwards all alone.

But take comfort in the fact, that I know just where to go.

I’ll be until I’m sure of me, and then upwards I’ll grow.

But realize within my indecisive self, that one thing is true.

The only thing I want to be, is one day be like you.

Darren Chesterfield 13 Jan 2008