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All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
Happy Mother's Day to my dear
daughter:
A mother, too, and yet my baby still!
Praised be the love that lasts, and always
will,
Perched like a star above the windswept
weather!
Years pass like clouds beneath the things that
matter.
Mothers grasp the grace within the fill,
Older than the stars themselves, that
spill
Towards eyes whose tears supply the maelstrom's
waters.
How lucky we, to share it in our bones!
Each a mother, holding what will
prove
Redemption's gift, too dear to be redeemed
'Ere time renew the miracle again.
So may you, some Mother's Day, your own
Daughter, now a mother, send such love,
Alive to more emotion that you dreamed,
Yet far beyond the realm of joy and pain. |
