How many tears of joy have been tasted by her gentle lips, I wonder?
How many tears of sorrow have been courageously wiped away?
How many smiles and encouraging questions has she asked to brighten up your day?
How many stars have passed through her sky;
while her calm, serene eyes upward gazing
have been searching for the promise
her favorite hymn provides.
From a silent countenance I have observed her;
my senses flooded by the captivating stories of Michelangelo;
witnessing of Pygmalion’s rebirth in My Fair Lady,
convinced the think method of teaching music was really working,
and later amused by the quiet joys of reading practically anything;
From my quiet perspective, I extracted the silver lining,
chopped down the Cherry tree,
returned the illusive pound of sugar,
and had the courage to stand my ground…
all of them, subtle harmonies of my mother’s whisperings, omnipresent muses of my training ground.
I am no philosopher… nor poet too today
No aristocrat… or courtroom lawyer clothes adorn
I am just a man – a simple man
A man of God who owes it all to his mother!
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