A Mama’s Path


Seasons come, and seasons go, a revolving door of picture frames:

 

Dappled sunlight illuminates the inner glow of a child’s smile,

Towers of flame reflect a teenager’s heartache and clenched fists,

Sparkling snowflakes kiss the tumultuous skin, seeking celestial guidance,

Burgeoning bulbs breach newly packed earth of a soul’s resting place.

 

Within these seasons is contained life’s shared joys and sorrows,

All beings have seasons of bright sunlight and snow-clad winter rays,

Children will cry, giggle, and think no sweets is the end of the world,

But through thick and thin, they will seek mama’s comforting arms and soft words.

 

From the moment of conception, a reservoir of strength is conjured in one’s breast,

For sleepless nights and dirty diapers, colossal messes and seemingly endless tears,

A quiet patience and calm humor is developed and nurtured

For bug-hunting and reckless abandon, snips and snails and puppy dog tails.

 

Upon this path to guide your newborn, eyes shining bright with innocence and trust,

A realm of refreshing discoveries and ingenuous laughter surrounds,

Rose-colored glasses perch upon your nose again, rejoicing at each smile and step:

You are enveloped in the age-old cycle of life and rebirth. Enjoy, Mama.

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