Breath

A Little House

A mother lives in a little house

Alone with her children four

She handles each with love and care

With little need for more

She'll treat Worry with a soft caress

And breathe whispers to sooth Pain

She'll calm Anger with a simple smile

Without burden or strain

Her last child she sings to sleep

She hears our beckoning calls

For Joy to float above night and day

With wings so not to fall

She lives in this little house

With her children four

A mother in its truest sense

Though us, we ask for more

For we, we are frightened little things

Looking rarely outside our scope

Forgetting that a Mother can have many names

For us, we call her Hope.