Mom

The gentle fingers that caress a soft head The gentle embrace that follows when fed Eyes that know the need in each thought Need that is delivered before it is sought. Bringing to the world the cycle of life Shouldering all of its pain and strife A woman knows intelligence and nourishment And motherhood provides till the last lament. Celebrate, bow to its offerings and gifts Breathe in the rich pure fragrance Hasten not from the cradle For there is no joy in privation Always look back with each forward step Fostered by sacrifice, this grand creation Hosts the greatest of all elation And all the honors that are granted Never really repay what has been planted. To have been nurtured and set free By a love greater than all that is me I can only be small and meek When the word, mother, I speak.