~
Mother of many waters
the manner with which she ascends
is sympathetically informed
we are a running spring
from her womb
flowing along the magical line
of peaks and summits
to cascading fiery birthright

and the rain fell
and the snow settled
and the ice theologized
to remind us
the outside world still worships
her eruptive embers
~

Sitting on her clutch of eggs
agitatedly growling.
She plucks out her own feathers-
a warm belly for incubation.
Depriving herself of nourishment for days.
Her eyes glaze over, crazed.
Maternal sacrifices run deep
through her hollow bones.

When I describe you to a stranger,
I do not mention your flawless makeup

Instead I think of your eyes, the window to your soul.
I describe the love that flows through soft hazel gaze that only a mother can produce

When I describe you to a stranger,
I do not mention your perfectly done hair

Instead I see you reading a novel on a hot summer day,
As if it were your true reality in that moment.
I see the power that literature holds

I describe your mesmerizing voice repeating the lines of Eloise in Paris to me,
I mention the soothing way in which you read the Velveteen Rabbit,
And I credit you for making me fall in love with words and the way they can make people feel.

When I describe you to a stranger,
I do not mention your schooling history

Instead I picture you and I see a symphony around your soul that courses cannot teach
I see Mozart's Sonata No.11 and Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos
I see Monet’s Water Lilies, Veronese's Wedding at Cana and Michelangelo’s David

I describe the joy in your eyes when we saw the Sistine Chapel and the Champs-Élysées
I describe the vast knowledge and art that makes up your personal mosaic.

When I describe you to a stranger,
I do not mention your professional accomplishments.

Instead I mention your ability to hold someone and make them feel loved
I picture the times you embraced me while I silently sobbed over circumstances that you tried to protect me from.
I picture the words that you gave me at just the right times
I see the comfortable silence you provided when I couldn't bear to hear words through the pain.

When I describe you to a stranger,
I do not mention your clothing or the way you dress

Instead I mention the way you clothe yourself in humility before God
I see the verses that you have sown into my heart since I was young
I speak of the way you clothe yourself with the armor of God
I remember the scriptures that you so carefully knitted on my heart

When I describe you to a stranger,

I describe you as
A woman after God’s own heart.
A woman who understands that beauty is vain but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised,
A woman who teaches wisdom and kindness and serves with joy,
A mother who clothes herself in strength and dignity and laughs without fear of the future,
A mother who encapsulates the love of Christ here on Earth.
I describe you as everything that I hope to become.