THE SPRING FROM WHENCE I COME

***This is the first of two poems that I like to think of as my "Hallmark" period. This one, I wrote for my mom and framed it with a lovely picture as a mother's day gift a few years ago. So I suppose this is for all you mothers out there...***

With the brave watchguard of her mountains
And her humble valleys winding low,
With her creative spring buds blooming,
And her honest winter’s snow,

With her striking daily sunrise,
And her constant sunsets, too,
With the wisdom of the wisest
Formed from years of tears so true,

With passionate fire her very core,
And rich soil nurturing new life,
With her powerful sway of wind and storm,
And her selfless rays of light,

With her timeless ocean rhythm
And gentle spirit like no other,
As dynamic as her seasons,
Of course the Earth would be called

Mother.