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Poem

Where is the loving mother who's needed most,
        long after she's taken
all the lovely fruits and flowers 
        from the garden she tended yesterday
in this onerous, earthly realm?

How long has it been since she caressed and kissed  
        her husband, children, grandchildren and others
whom she loved more than all
        the air she breathed,
the water she was baptized in 
        and the very life she lived as if
yesterday was nothing more
        than a fading dream 
and tomorrow a tantalizing
        blessing, hope and prayer.
Where is that splendiferous, loving mother 
        whose loss I find at times
too great a loss,
        too much to bear?  

Rising high above tempestuous storms,
        ebb and flooding tides...
far beyond feeling forlorn
        where she now walks and hides.
In goodness and grace in His loving embrace 
        in recompense for the garden
she watered and pruned,
        Where is she now
(I can see her somehow), planting seeds
        by the light of the moon.

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