To be
the design of our future,
humble in hand our tears
in your heart do land
whilst the world around
unencumbered
rattles on,
like a mobile above my eyes,
you do soothe me
mother
We are
a society driven by need
to celebrate, honor the beauty
she
bestows on our world,
her constant companion
of love, of heart,
a passionate embrace
a tear swept in a lonely adolescent
rite of passage,
her own tear
when soon we depart her grasp.
There is
the reality for some,
the beauty of woman
whom without the hand of God
are left without child,
yet know,
without our love from everyone
all of her celebratory delight,
we would lose all sense of nature,
if left to individuals alone.
So we do celebrate you,
mother of our soul,
our lives,
those you will nurture
by instinct,
whether sown or known.
Mother
in all respects of love
we do cherish your being
without your hand
to touch our tears
we are sullen and grave,
yet today we are delightful
in knowledge of your reality.
Mother.