My Mother

Poetry

I see why my mother walked with her head down sometimes; remembering the cracks in the sidewalks and the rocks on the ground; occasionally glancing up to see which way she was going; feeling like her today’s being no different than your yesterdays. She was only left with memories & regret as if time itself was already set.

I understand my mother tears …the tears that ran down my mother’s face …the tears that only filled her eyes …..the tears she held inside and the tears she couldn’t cry. I understand the Tears that soothe her soul and ease the heart …. tears that fell when feelings that had no words and words had no meaning … tears that restored strength….. yesterday tears that had pride. I know the love of her heart and depth of her soul, the spirit of “knowing” and the wisdom of a woman a thousand years old.

I live the life of my mother; my heart beats at the rhythm of her soul, my steps…a continuation of her journey. I am my mother’s child. I see why my mother walked with her head down sometimes.

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