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On the twentieth day of May 1930, a female child was born, and the angels danced in Heaven, rejoicing her birth. She possessed a splendorous soul, and her aura shone with loving light. She had many hardships to endure in her youth, but she did so with grace and dignity, never abandoning her faith. She married a soldier whose heart was full of anger and rage, yet her love was enough for both of them, and she bore him thirteen children, of which I was the third eldest. I grew up with her love and his anger, and it molded me into the man I am today. Some twelve years ago, my mother lay dying in her hospital bed; I gently held her hand and wiped away the tears trickling down my cheeks. Mum was my inspiration, my muse, my friend, my everything. She was kind, generous, patient, and loving, a woman of boundless empathy, compassion, and faith. I couldn't have hoped for a better role model, and I loved her dearly. I felt her hand squeeze mine, and then it went limp, and I knew her soul had left her body to join her maker. The angels danced in Heaven that day, welcoming a kindred soul back to God's loving embrace. And though my heart was crushed; I gave her one last kiss and bid her farewell, believing that one day we will meet again, and the angels will dance once more, as she leads me through Heaven's gate, where God will welcome my soul to its new home.
pain is no stranger
it needs no invitation...
souls welcome Death’s kiss
Mother - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2019
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