Mother by Don A. Miller II, Ph.D. “The Great Spirit selects and then sends before us an earthbound mother Who opens wide her womb and heart for one child and perhaps another Raising high her loving arms to provide a broad if but momentary cover Sheltering from the drenching storms of youth that inevitably will hover A dutiful yet deceitful daughter and her modest but misbehaving brother The free and emerging spirit is so shaped and molded but not smothered She receives the lustful seed surrendered in loving care of a doting father Who during her labored rest shall watch and for a time ceases to bother She is transformed and transfigured until a final release she does holler Bringing forth then a newborn from within her protective cloak and collar And glows in joyous celebration whether it becomes a labor and a scholar While praised whether reclining on imported silk or in dirty cotton squalor She teaches the child of peace so he may lower his weapon and his shield Her spirit moves within him so he might show mercy upon the battlefield Yet she chides him never injustice of others to tolerate nor to it ever yield Learning that words of truth are the most powerful cannons any may weld And pilfered prime rib sticks longer in the throat than honest ground meal As life’s many wounds require great time and care if they are to be healed She prepares the next generation of mothers who babes shall be holding Complimenting “ladylike” posture with rude impetuous behavior scolding And proclaims that the good wife will never her husband be cuckolding Noting that deception leaves under burnt rumble embers still smoldering As a fire burning at both ends destroys the interior as well as its molding A good life is the one where the sheets have been cleaned before folding From mother we learned that friendship is to be nourished and cherished As fruit left too long on the table spoils and very soon will have perished While we may be proud our attire should never be provocative nor garish As we worship weekly The Almighty in our homes and at our local parish And have a clean plate eating all our vegetables and an occasional radish Recalling our manners as our legs are soundly spanked for being brattish Did we learn from her of sexuality with secrets long that were forbidden Perhaps a lot or perhaps not at all until at last we were too badly smitten Whether we cruise through life or attack it as if by lightening rod driven Our mother translates to us those values of family and life she was given From mother to a child over the ages wisdom and false truths seem even Wrapping both in a pretty package she ties it neatly with a lovely ribbon If she lived a life that’s flawed it does not her worth in any way tarnish In our roles as sons and daughters our salaries deserved to be garnished Recollecting how she stripped tables or chairs and applied new varnish As we laughed and left a wet glass ring on the shiny coat she furnished Making no confession whatsoever while she interrogated us in earnest Still she cradled us in comforting arms when no heat was in the furnace She builds for the child a boat in which he may set sail and then travel far She knows he will wallow in the mud even as he reaches upward at a star She saves memories of his lost innocence inside a sacred can or a hidden jar So that he will know from whence he came as his dignity becomes marred Her love endures whether achievements exceed or fail or simply are on par Her spirit long survives after she is laid to rest in the earth’s reclaiming tar She instructs that true prosperity may be briefly borrowed but not stolen The great rewards of life are often etched in wood and seldom are golden Cloth dipped in cold water eases pain when an injury has become swollen For the good will of a stranger we shall be to humanity forever beholden Lies create the tightening noose in which justice for the wicked is woven We stand on one side or the other of righteousness once we have chosen Thus God gives us all one mother for a day or for a year or for a lifetime Whose warm body braces for us against winter wind’s blistering chimes And fans and moistens our baked faces in summer’s sweltering sunshine Nurturing our strengths and accepting our weaknesses of body and mind So we know her as ‘a rule of thumb’ to be the one most loving and kind And I lift up this day in memory one very special mother who was mine” Copyright @ 2010 D’Andrew Productions

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