This is a poem I wrote about my mother, several years ago. |
Three years, too short to last, It went away so fast. My mother had to go, Why, I wanted to know. Too young to understand, But did I hold her hand? Did I know it was death, Watch her take her last breath? Was I by her bedside, Did I sit and abide? Watch her fading away, Cry, begging her to stay? Did I silently sit, Or did I throw a fit? While it slowly took her, Did I feel calm and sure? Three years-hardly enough. I think of all this stuff, And wonder, could I grow, If only I could know? Wax strong in the Spirit, Not feel like I’ve been hit. Remember my mother, And know when I see her? Know that she’s my mother, And I belong to her, That I am not alone, And she will help me home. I’m sure that by her side, I will gladly abide. There in her loving arms, I’ll be quite safe and warm. In her embrace of love, I’ll live with her above, Relive the years I lost, For just a little cost. Live in righteousness well, So with her I can dwell. Do the best I know how, Just like I want to now. Live my life righteously, Be the best I can be. So I can see my mother, And live again with her. The Spirit tells me this, I know nothing’s amiss. I need to do what’s right, And walk within the light. |