June 22, 2024
My mother was the first person I ever learned to pray for
isn’t it something how the hands meant to carry us sometimes have to surrender us
the heaviness of bearing the fruit of her labor
From God in a daughter
Meant that I’d become her anchor
So that no matter how far away she may drift
There is something pulling her
Back home to herself
“At the feet of God”
Said the wind
Tuck her there and we will keep her safe
In the mean time
with a love that is patient and kind
To you both
Oh Holy Spirit that lives in my bones
Go where my mother is
Even if it be in the middle of a war
If there is truly nothing more powerful than you
Let her hear my prayer too
Let her know that there is a little girl
Who dances with wonder
Presses her two small hands together and
begs to hold her mothers instead
she sings whatever song would call on her heart
To pull her out of whatever kept her from being near
And instead made a home for her in fear
My mother is the first person to show me that God is real
And willing to clean us all of what we may choose in shame
I hold her face as my first testimony
Live, to tell her what has kept me close in company while she was away
I tell her it’s okay
And who am i to not forgive her
When there is something that found us both worthy of a prayer being heard.
