There is never a moment’s pause,
In a mothers love.
This I know for a fact,
Because-
Mama, you are always loving,
Mama, you are always there.
Be it laundry,
Or finding things homes,
And for me, putting them there.

There was never moment’s pause,
Never a moment’s doubt,
Only thinking of ways to thank you,
Thinking of ways to return it as you do
To be there for you,
As you are for me.
Unconditional love,
Clear as already boiling water for tea.

You’ve been the best mother a man can hope for,
And then a little more-
You planted my kindness,
Nurtured my compassion too.
The good in myself,
I attribute to you think who?

Your love made home warm and inviting,
A place to cherish and miss when not there.
Even now, your little touches,
Still stay to remind me,
Of the deep bond we share.

Thank you for your love,
Thank you for your care,
It means the world to a son-
To know,
That no matter what,
Mama is there.

Of five of eight
Which are also three,
One is part of me.
But lacks might.
For I, am simply I.
Yet, two are part of you.
One is missing, but it makes itself seen,
By being bold, down three.

Of three,
The first, second and third are akin,
Sisters not of blood to you or I,
Yet family nonetheless.

We begin with the first:

Of age she is a little off center.
And not part of any knot.
Nor a moth, in spider web caught.

The third, The eldest bakes with great skill,
But lacks zeal when using yeast.
None the less,
Her second cousin, in quantities, Vast, consumes each complete batch.

When together,
I and the sisters mostly disagree.
Though you do not,
Only the youngest and eldest,
Get along together it seems.
You and the eldest are quite close,
And all speaking together,
Form one phrase
In praise.

No more lords.
No more rules.
Dictated by cloud headed fools.
Dogmatic commands issued
from chairs in the sky.
Telling those without wings:
How we cannot live,
And terms when we die

Speaking endless promises
yet speaking in riddles,
circles, and lies.

Life is a game
Of slicked palmed
councils on clouds

Telling us,
Work hard enough!
Aspire high enough!
And you can earn your wings
(of feathers and wax)
All your hard work
Will be rewarded at last!

So, work hard today
and pay us our taxes.
Perhaps tomorrow,
you get your wings.

All lies.
We toil today.
We toil tomorrow.
We toil until our loved ones
Gather in shared sorrow.
Buried with unfulfilled dreams
Of flying
Tomorrow.