I cannot refrain, words of praise flow willingly from these lips, like sweet rain…
Regardless the painful distance from this soul, her presence remains…
Fresh as the first breath drawn, strong as the first heart song..
Whispering, nights fears before her words fled, singing, tucking me tightly in my bed…
Soft hands, urging wounds to heal, stern words, correcting a wandering zeal…
Paths diverge in the seasons march, faithfully sown, hopes harvests grown, in this wandering heart..
Giving, her blood in these veins flows, her breath in these words show, she’s my mother…
And she’s like no other, look what she made of me…


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s