Every Mother, Is My Own! Poem by Kuda Bondamakara

Fascinated by the love of a mother;
The seraphs of heaven whisper to one another
"Blessed are ye all mothers;
For your love in times of trouble soothes".

And in the comfort of every mother's wings;
Is protection from dangers that make us cringe.
Since those days that she used to sing;
Just to make us sleep; we are like kings.

Just like an eagle protects her nest
Mothers nurse us with all their best
And everyday we are treated as special guests
Always worrying about us without rest.

What would we be without you mothers?
Birds that can't fly without any feathers?
So we thank God for every mother;
Because that child she didn't smother.

When the darkest clouds appear victorious;
Mothers fight for us like we were never notorious.
And when we cry because of fear and hopelessness;
Mothers wipe our tears with love and gentleness.

When the world decides to reject us;
Mothers open their arms to embrace us.
And when our friends in times of need, desert us;
Mothers' unchanging love doesn't, replace us.

When we appear to be going wayward;
Mothers are always there to purge us.
And when our people begin to judge us;
Mothers are never the ones to begrudge us.

When life leaves us hurt and vulnerable
She makes every day more bearable.
When we wrong her in our ignorance
She never passes a vote of no confidence.

When the world would not believe us
She carried the burden, to relieve us.
And when we failed her with our lies
She never turned off her lights

Even when she punishes us in her anger;
Her love she never stops to render.
Oh aren't you blessed all ye mothers?
For in your place there are none others.

Though I don't see mine every day,
Her love I can still feel it in others every way.
And I'm never short from dusk to dawn
For in every mother I see my very own.