She was my religion.
She was my holiness
and my wholeness.
She was my safety.
Her presence, it took away
my vulnerability.
I miss her,
my prayer.
I miss her.
***
The way her
arms held me,
so tightly,
so closely.
The way her
heart loved me,
so tenderly.
The definition
of motherly.
I miss her,
my prayer.
I miss her.
***
She taught me
how to pray.
She showed me
the righteous
way.
When I got sick,
she prayed.
Successful,
she prayed.
Failed,
the same.
I miss her,
her prayers,
I miss her.
***
I will always miss her.
My mother.
Life will never
be the same,
But I will always
remember
to say her
my prayers,
as she used to
say
for me
her prayers,
no matter
where I am
or when.
Forever and ever,
Amen.
***
YOU ARE READING
Poetry By A Traveller
Поэзия"Come travel through my mind." A collection of random poems I have composed. These poems are of my innermost thoughts and spirit, a journey through my mind. It might be a bit crazy at times but we are all crazy, so. I dedicate them to all lovers of...
