A poem about seasons in the lives of mothers and daughters. |
As a winter’s hibernation- I became God’s creation: I tumbled out of that fleshly tomb… Her womb- To presume, The title as daughter; Her precious Gift from The Father; A new season for my mother. As I grow… She begins to really know- The heart of The Father; And she follows; His every command; Hand in hand… There are no demands. Taught to hear Him by my Grandmother- There’s no other… Way to go; But up… As she pours her heart in a cup; And sups, On His Word of Life. My mother…the wife- Spreads forth her wings; She takes care of many things; And like Spring… She blooms- Into … a sister and a friend; Faithful to the end; For God is by her side; She will never hide; Like the sun when it disappears; A new season is here. As she comes into her Summer… She never wonders; Which way to go; For she flows- In God’s finesse, Her greatest years of success, And joy and happiness. In between Summer and Winter… She enters- Fall…Change…a newness of purpose; Love’s greatest… I push and I scream; As streams… Of glory reveal- Prayers fulfilled… My season to birth; My daughter into the earth; My baby girl… Her season in the world! Change… Lives rearranged- We are never the same! |