Why do you get so sentimental on the one day of the year honoring mothers?
Do you think somehow one day will compensate for all the times when in frustration
I have asked for help and been ignored?
Is this a day to scrub clean the slate of misdemeanors?
To right the list of everything gone wrong?
I am a mother and feel abused by good intentions to glorify my role by shallow means.
You ask me what I would like to have, to do, on this one day
And quietly I say We could go out for dinner.”
When all I want could not in a million dinners
Not in a million days be satisfied.
My child by birth or melded to my heart by choice, look deep into my eyes.
I want you to enjoy all life’s best things, accomplish where I’ve failed, sing where I’ve cried.
I’d have you search what heaven alone can give.
Your gift most precious to me’d be
A life of faith that’s lived in joy for God.
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