Into Forever
A Tribute to Motherhood
They’ll never know me while I’m young,
the children, I mean.
Oh, they’ll have vague memories of outings and birthday parties and
reprimands.
But they won’t recall the face of a young mother
bending near their fevered brows or
a young hand smoothing back their windswept hair.
When they first fall in love, they’ll think I couldn’t possibly
understand,
that I never felt the glow of a summer romance.
And when they are past knowing me as a need-meeter only,
The hand they hold will be older, lined with experience,
not the softer, more slender hand that clasped theirs
as we ran along the beach or
shared tiny teacups and tiny prayers
or listened to the night sounds together.
The eyes that seek now to reflect clarity of thought and judgment
regarding their care and happiness will be dimmed and weary,
perhaps turning to them for inspiration.
The shoulders that held aloft their troubled worlds
may willingly shift the load to younger, stronger ones.
The time, strength, and vision will fade,
but my love for them can only grow
in depth and breadth and into forever.
I gladly exchange the young hands and clear eyes
for the treasure of time given me
to be a mother.
by
Gloria A. Foster
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| My Forever |
