While sorting through things that normally remain out of sight, out of mind, yet tend to accumulate with time – so that eventually I am forced to figure out what to do with these relics from my past – I came across something I’d written for my mom so many years ago that I didn’t even remember it. Now I’m wondering if I ever gave her this poem? Time has a way of slipping past me, reminding me today not to leave things undone until tomorrow. Mom’s no longer here, so I’ll share this poem, simply titled “Mom”, with you today instead.
If I could paint your portrait, what color would I choose?
How can anyone color love? Perhaps in rainbow’s hues?
A rainbow’s spectrum is complete, the prism shows its glory.
White light holds all earthly hues, perhaps these will paint your story.
Yet who would paint a still life, when your life is never still?
but flows like springs of water, with love our lives to fill.
Who could paint your spirit of silently flowing grace?
No brush could capture with its strokes, the beauty in your face.
And so these love lines are for you – they’re all I have to give.
Such a small reward for one who taught me how to live.
“A wife (woman) of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies.” (Proverbs 31:10) miss you, Mom –
sincerely, Grace Day