You know I’ve read the Lord of the Rings saga several times. A classic heroic struggle of hardship, betrayal and calculated strategies. I’m sure they all did a good job and got there in the end but you know what; I think a mother would have cut the time in half. Because that’s what they do – the impossible. Tolkien should have known that.

A masterpiece painted on a canvas of stars

Soft is painted the light around a mother
She stands sentinel against a darkening sky
What world has she made that it grants me leave
To navigate days by the light of the heavens
Without some fair words of tranquil grandeur
We may fail to hear the message she would give
To inspire our arching endless possibility of life
Mother is written of starlight in time without end.

Tender hands from comforting sirens
Strong as steel and soft as lamb’s tails
They birth us, nurture swift and guide
Yet depart their comfort too soon from us

With towering love in a world of ill ease
They make, shape and teach us wisdom
As we grow fast into our lives and rejoice
We are blessed the world gave us mother