A poem for my mother
Mom: do you get enough praise for what you do?
I don’t think so.
Maybe people are just too busy
or too afraid, too quiet to show
exactly how they feel.
Or maybe it’s the nature of what you do,
who you are
that makes this tough.
You push and pull us to look deeper
into ourselves, deeper outside of ourselves, to see
who we are meant to be,
our place in the grand scheme of The Earth.
But this is often a rough road for us to walk
and we resist, kick, and yell.
But that is your gift to the world:
to help us forward anyway.
You help us find richness in life.
