Mother

Mother, you are so well woven and stitched 
Into the patchwork of my indelible heart; 
Bright soap suds like silver star bewitched 
Your unslept nights; nothing falls apart. 
I am washed, and cleaned, and dew scrubbed 
Like an hibiscus morning, in fresh wear; 
Yesterday's poor clothes now over-rubbed 
Of stains, fits warm. Mother, love here 
Crowns and kiss your cinder covered hands 
Holding the one-eye needle that sees tear 
And rips, and finds by faith and scans 
The callus cloth's fingers, and the fear. 
Dark moments were when the fabric jars 
Away from the footprints; threads linger 
In the course of life like guiding stars 
Blending by sunset and lamp my character. 
And sometimes still I walk and look above 
To see the friend that stills the storm, 
And then I thank God for mother and love, 
And her patchwork days that keep me warm

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