Mar 2012
A day will dawn…
And we, the born, will learn to mourn,
All of us, black or white, north, south, east or west,
We have a common thread that links us all…
A mother…
We will look to the skies and our eyes will swim,
Our hearts will brim with feelings warm
And our minds will sink in memories made from material rarer than gold,
She was there when we first stepped into our first schoolroom,
She was there to warm us in the frozen heart of a pale white winter,
She was there to cool us in the volcanic lava of a scorching hot summer,
There is a chill that cuts deeper than the kiss from winter’s lips,
It will come to us all soon enough and peel away our false smiles,
The autumn branches of this life already twist and hold us in an iron grip.
Once upon a sleepy Sunday some of us ran here and there,
We fetched flowers made from paper and petals, lightly sprinkled with perfume,
Little did we know that all that was needed was always right here,
All we had to do was reach out,
Touch and hold,
Embrace and softly say…
“Love you.
Always have.
Always will.”
Those who know do so and say so with eyes and ears,
From the lips all the way down to fingertips and toes too,
They have no need for chocolates, roses or man-made greeting cards,
She was special, her life a magical miracle of the divine,
She was mother to me and mother to you
and remember too a woman is mother to all of mankind,
A wife to her husband,
A mother to her children,
And an angel of the Almighty.
A woman.
A mother.
A friend.
I miss her so much…
And we, the born, will learn to mourn,
All of us, black or white, north, south, east or west,
We have a common thread that links us all…
A mother…
We will look to the skies and our eyes will swim,
Our hearts will brim with feelings warm
And our minds will sink in memories made from material rarer than gold,
She was there when we first stepped into our first schoolroom,
She was there to warm us in the frozen heart of a pale white winter,
She was there to cool us in the volcanic lava of a scorching hot summer,
There is a chill that cuts deeper than the kiss from winter’s lips,
It will come to us all soon enough and peel away our false smiles,
The autumn branches of this life already twist and hold us in an iron grip.
Once upon a sleepy Sunday some of us ran here and there,
We fetched flowers made from paper and petals, lightly sprinkled with perfume,
Little did we know that all that was needed was always right here,
All we had to do was reach out,
Touch and hold,
Embrace and softly say…
“Love you.
Always have.
Always will.”
Those who know do so and say so with eyes and ears,
From the lips all the way down to fingertips and toes too,
They have no need for chocolates, roses or man-made greeting cards,
She was special, her life a magical miracle of the divine,
She was mother to me and mother to you
and remember too a woman is mother to all of mankind,
A wife to her husband,
A mother to her children,
And an angel of the Almighty.
A woman.
A mother.
A friend.
I miss her so much…
