Thursday, April 5, 2012

on my mother's birthday

a mother has made every part of me
spun with threads from her all
not only her belly, but her being, fully,
embuing her spirit, withall,

first with her limbs, that guided truly
her legs carried me to life
and then in her arms, a cradled baby,
shielded from darkness of night

her milk filled my hungry tummy
tongue nurtured a thirsty mind
nose sniffed out all that was smelly,
I learned moderation from her eyes

and so it is that my mother made me
indeed, I owe her most everything
and so it is that I shall serve her, purely,
even as I shall so serve the Supreme.

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