Celebrating Motherhood #2
Often, when I close my eyes at night,
My thoughts drift off to a beautiful sight,
When I was a child in my mother’s care,
And I sat quietly as she brushed my hair.
I learned to pray; “Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.”
I was unaware of the events in her years,
Or how often I brought my mother to tears.
I didn’t see flaws, I loved her embrace,
I was always pleased to see her smiling face,
She lives in her own little world these days,
I’ve become her mother in many ways.
She asks for her own mother in her ninetieth year,
I feel on my cheek the hot sting of a tear,
I wipe it away without a care,
As I bend to brush back her now silver hair.
Her heartaches were many, her blessings were few,
Now her voice falters when talking to you,
To me she’s the woman with arms holding me tight,
Rocking me to sleep at the end of the night.
© Dianna Doles Petry