Your mother is always with you…
She’s the whisper of the leaves
as you walk down the street.
She’s the smell of bleach
in your freshly laundered socks.
She’s the cool hand on your brow
when you’re not well.
Your mother lives inside your laughter.
She’s crystallized in every tear drop.
She’s the place you came from,
your first home…
She’s the map you follow
with every step that you take.
She’s your first love
and your first heart break…
and nothing on earth can separate you.
Not time, Not space…
Not even death…
will ever separate you
from your mother…
You carry her inside of you…
I saw this little poem this morning. It's author is unknown. Just felt like reposting it here. Not a day goes by where some moment during the morning or afternoon, I think of my mother, and my Daddy, too. I'm glad for the heritage of spiritual training and love I received from my family that has brought me and guided me through my years of Christian service in a foreign land...
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