The Essence of Mother

for my beloved mother Doris Henderon
(written for her birthday, September 1995, with a few more recent additions)

Diana Henderson

On a sunny summer morning
A wafting breeze whispers, “Mother.”
I see her face among pure white clouds,
Touch her cheek in soft pink rose petals,
Feel her warmth in the rays of the sun,
And I wonder how the stars allowed
So sweet a miracle to settle
In my thoughts as this bright day's begun....
Memories of silken hands
Upon childhood’s blooming cheeks,
Embraces softly soothe wounded pride
Heal scraped knees, bruised 
egos and elbows,
Smiles from eyes and heart dry fiercest tears,
Encouraging voice to gently guide
Beyond the pains that come as we grow,
Tender words to quell the deepest fears.
On a quiet summer evening,
The waxing moon whispers, “Mother.”
I see her spirit in pure white moonlight,
Sense her sweetness in honeysuckle balm,
Glimpse her brilliance amid the gleaming stars.
And I wonder if pure Love took flight
Upon an endless ocean of calm
Who else could give as much or go as far.
For, none of these, though glorious and bright—
The sun, the stars, the moon—all of life
Compares to her kind heart, her sweet soul,
Nor captures her core of loving light.
For she is fair and strong and shining
With gifts enough to master any goal
To unearth buried jewels with heart mining,
Revealing truer selves to be unfurled,
To find each cloud's most silver lining,
To bring beauty to a lost or dying world.
And to me, to all of us, she offers her most cherished gifts—
Charity, kindness, understanding, patience, wisdom, grace
And, most of all,

© 1995 & 2009 Diana Henderson

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