A Prayer for Mother’s Day

While I might be late posting this poem on my blog, rest assured that my mother received this one in a more timely fashion. I count myself a very blessed individual to have had my mother in my life; in addition to maternity, she has always embodied the timeless friendship that soul-mates share, and I find that I can’t thank her enough, no matter how I try to weave my words. That linguistic inadequacy, inspired by my mother’s love that words cannot describe, is the source of this villanelle.

Here’s the draft (I poured hours into this poem, probably more than any I wrote for April):

mothers day

And the final iteration:

.

If words alone could spell my mother’s care
beyond the chronicle of passing days,
I’d fill a thousand volumes with this prayer

and write her all the love a son can bear.
And yet I feel I’d never find the phrase,
if words alone could spell my mother’s care,

to fairly illustrate a love so rare
that conquers Time and all that he decays.
I’d fill a thousand volumes with this prayer

and pen sweet verses far beyond compare
to mirror her compassion in my praise,
if words alone could spell my mother’s care.

I see myself a young and grateful heir
and strive toward my mother’s gracious ways:
I’d fill a thousand volumes with this prayer

if, in the end, my humble hand could share
the timeless warmth my mother’s heart conveys.
If words alone could spell my mother’s care,
I’d fill a thousand volumes with this prayer.

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