Author Information
~My Mother, My Mentor, My Friend~
She lived behind a wall of pain,
watching us from behind it's bars,
sharing all she could from the place
she too, tried to reach for the stars,
so many things were stolen from her,
even before she fully knew their worth,
& yet, she pressed on, waiting for home,
eager to leave this fallen earth.
She knew about the human heart,
fragmented & torn though hers remained,
she knew God loves us as we are,
washes us clean when we are stained,
&, yes, she demonstrated faith,
even with little evidence, sometimes,
that miracles could stop the flood
of all of humanity's crimes.
And though she knew the power of words
to wound, to tear down defenses,
& though in her need to hide sometimes,
we learned to live with her pretenses,
as we each grew, & finally knew
the things she'd endured, just like we had,
our understanding & compassion deepened,
washing away things still gone bad.
And each of us, in our own ways,
are like her, & yet, chose not to be
imprisoned in the place she remains
bound to her soul's captivity,
our love lives on, our desire strong
for healing before the time arrives
there's no longer a chance to reconcile,
as we approach the end of our lives.
But the Lord still needs to set her free
of things only His power can heal,
only then can seeing her again
bring lasting changes, deep, & real,
& somehow when I pray for her now
He heals me more every time...
...the longer I'm a mother,
the more I finally understand mine.
When I was 12, & left her home,
& tried to find one on my own
though I went down a wide, dark road,
I still knew I was never really alone,
I knew her as the part of me
that gave my wings strength to carry on,
because she dared to set me free,
I knew darkness led to the dawn.
And now, in the light of the Son,
I see the past for what it was,
a journey to this place
of coming home, & knowing that because
my mother was a survivor, & showed us,
from her cage, that we could fly
I think of her, & love her more now
each time I take to the sky.
So, Mom, wherever you are right now,
in yourself, & with the Lord,
I pray you will allow Him
to cut your soul's chains off with His sword,
& let Him heal whatever still needs
to be undone, so, in His time,
He can bring you to this mountain,
& together, one day, we can climb
to a higher place, in the light
of His grace & healing love,
& stand upon the mountaintop,
out from under what kept us from above,
we'll look into each other's eyes again,
after so long apart,
able finally to share the wings
He's mended in each wounded heart.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
~By Anastazia Rowe~
Mother's Day, 2004~
