Your mother is always with you ...
She’s the whisper
of the leaves
as you walk
down the street.
She’s the smell
of bleach in
your freshly
laundered socks.
She’s the cool hand
on your brow
when you’re
not well.
Your mother lives inside
your laughter.
She’s crystallized
in every tear drop ...
She’s the place you came from,
your first home ...
She’s the map you
follow with every step that you take.
She’s your first love
and your first heart break ...
and nothing on earth
can separate you.
Not time, not space ...
Not even death ...
will ever separate you
from your mother ...
You carry her inside of you ...
Author Unknown
She’s the whisper
of the leaves
as you walk
down the street.
