To Mothers

To all the mothers,

With your crippled speech, fragment words and high timber sounds

You are still a singer for your cub.

With old rags and ancient style, long braided hair as waves and without a clue of makeup

You are still a beautiful soul.

With the unheard sighs, the blame on you, the fun they make and silent cries

You still have a strong spirit..

With the bumped up hips and tiny breasts, all the curves and figure distorted

You are still a marvel.

Hair grown body and stretch marks, the moles displaced and black eyes

You are still a piece of art.

With the carefree laugh, colors in eyes, golden skin and scintillating gay

You were and still are the goddess. 

With each sacrifice in action and love that you hold,

With the shine of your child's dreams in your eyes

You are still an amazing mother and beautiful always.

With all the care and skills in your hand, you make a house, home sweet home

And treat your family with feast each day.

With a stick in your hand, your child's destiny map and life self-help book

You carry in yourself, you are still an expert guide.

With laughs that are shared and tears that are shed and all the hugs,

You are still your child's favorite friend.

With the support you give they become climbers wise,

The purveyor of praise and punishment

You are still living in your child's heart

And you are their life's greatest blessing.