The past anchored my wobbly feet
I met sorrow, pain, anger, Mand defeat.
Eyes of a child through divorce
From life's binding first course.
Hands that rocked me to sleep
Her tears; her heart could not keep
Mom's pains from loving me
Or raised alone a Holy See.
Days fled into the arms of night
Weeks folded their wings in flight
Months to years framed my light
My hope grew from Mom's plight.
A young eagle soared high
Never encountered a grey sky
That posed a challenge to my flight.
My wings anchored in my Mom's site.
Mom's true Love founded a compassionate Judah
In her reconciled Jesus, Mohamed, and the Buddha.
I knew not my father, except for his absence
Mom's greatest love fueled my soul's balance.
Dedicated to my loving Mom: Sylvette Bechara-Marsh or Marcha
August 31,2012
Copyright Leaking Pen 2012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem, and your mom sounds like a very lovely lady.