.Mother’s Day Poems

You taught me how to love you by
The way that you loved me;
And by your unseen sustenance,
To see what you could see.

You gave to me through who you were
The gift of what I am.
Your pride in me is now my pride;
Your faith, my caravan.

Your life does not conclude with death,
Nor will it end with mine,
For all the lives I touch, you touch,
And so on through all time. 

Thank you, Mom, for making us
Happy, well, and good.
All we are depends on you:
Not what you say, but what you do.
Kids know what they should,
Yet need your hands for shaping us,
Opening and waking us,
Unveiling our view.

My mother, the queen of my heart,
Reigns in my sky like a moon,
Pulling the tides of my senses,
Lighting the paths of my dreams.

All melodies hence will play subtly
Against this first, dominant theme
That will turn their most delicate graces
Into harmonies they’ll never hear.

Nor can I visit the garden
Where once I lay wrapped in her arms.
The doors of the past will not open
Though I live ‘neath a dome of pure joy. 

Thank you for your love throughout the years.
Happiness comes slowly, day by day.
All you and Dad have given me remains,
Not distant from the wellspring of my tears.
Kindnesses can never go away.

Your love has been my rock, despite the strains
On all of us as separation nears.
Under your roof, my love will always stay.

Thank you for loving me,
Having me in.
All you have given
Now I hold within.
Kid in a vacuum
You made your own,
Or else I had been
Unborn and unknown. 

I see you working hard for me
And wonder what it means:
Whether I will do the same
And give up my own dreams

To offer someone else my world,
A stranger from my womb,
And say: Here, take my life,
So you, not I, can bloom.

I often wonder at the depth
Of that cool sacrifice;
I know it can’t be “just because,”
Or simply to be nice.

It is so awesome, I can’t think
How I could make that choice,
Except I see something in you
That gives my own heart voice.

I see sometimes a happiness
Amid the stressed-out day
That no one else can hope to know
In any other way.

I feel it when you look at me
And understand sometimes
That things I do, I do for two,
And then your hard life shines.

And when I give you grief, I know
That all the bitter pain
Between a mom and growing child
Is simply like the rain

That alternates with sunny days,
Passion without end,
While underneath is more of life
Than we can comprehend.

And then I know, perhaps, why I
Like you might be so moved
To give my life to someone else,
And know that I have loved.