Mother

From the time I was small
I remember you Mom
praying on your knees
in front of Him
who hears every thing
and understands
and past who
nothing ever goes

and how we together
had to sit in church
with respect
and even had to give our cents
as tithe to the Lord.

Mom, your love is
so selfless and unbounded
as if Jesus Himself
marked off the borders
of your humanity

and although the years
past just too quickly
you are in your old age
still my leaning post,
my advisor, my anchor
and my mast

like only the
most wonderful mother
can fit into the heart
of a boy and man.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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