I have a Mom who never will grow old —-
The mask of age your sweet face will not wear,
For your capacity for love untold,
The poets know that only Buddhas share.
And by your wondrous gifts that I have known,
You’ve nursed me, cried when I have met with harm,
So undeserving, near to manhood grown,
No other human knows a heart so warm.
I’ve hurt you, yes, and you have justly grieved,
But where I’ve stood, you’ve never cursed the ground:
You don’t know how! From golden womb conceived,
I speak of hate —- you’ve never heard the sound!
My heart, loved Mother, when it’s aged and gray,
Will grasp your sacred glow of young Spring’s day.
www.skyhaiku.com
www.youtube.com/mrdragonfly101
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Reference:
- www.skyhaiku.com
- www.associatedcontent.com/article/5679626/high_lights_of_summer.html?cat=43
- www.home.comcast.net/~eddmanual
