To All Mothers
Who are we without our mothers?
Some loveless sisters and brothers!
She is the only one to love with all her heart,
She is the only one to love without any art,
I grew up to be the man I wanted to be,
And she grew older, with me as her baby,
I got married and became a parent,
her love grew and was more apparent,
This is how mothers see us their way,
Not as grown-ups or what we say,
They keep praying for our happiness,
They want nothing for their truthfulness,
We sometimes give them a rough deal,
They always forgive and make us feel,
Ashamed of what we've said and done,
Though what is done cannot be undone,
Suddenly they part with this short life,
And leave us to go on with our strife,
With mixed memories and confused souls,
With heavy hearts and bewildered calls,
'Is it true? Are they gone forever? ' We ask,
'We are gone, but our souls are there.' We hark!
Their lovely faces, their lovely talks,
Keep coming to us like living folks,
But soon we realize the vanity of life
And see the false glories of our strife
From the cradle to the grave is but a span
And a nod is enough to the wise man!
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