For mother's day, I decided to post a poem I wrote for my mom. Back in May 2007, she became particularly concerned about things moms worry about. She wondered whether she had done everything she needed to do to help her children. She wondered whether things she had done incorrectly would "scar us for life" (by the way, I completely relate to this, since I have my own kids). And she was concerned that things she had done before she knew better would somehow lessen her in her children's minds. Of COURSE, these things changed nothing in our eyes. In fact, sometimes I look back and wonder how my parents did it all.
At that particular time, I felt a poem could communicate what I wanted to say best. We gardened a LOT as kids, so that helps explain the background.
Before you read, I am posting this today hoping all who have been mother to another will know whatever sacrifices they have made are appreciated and will know "we" children love you. And we hope you know all those little things - and even the big things - are forgiven. Thank you moms. For everything.
() My Garden Has No Stones ()
) ( )
My garden has no stones in it,
I’ve thrown them all away.
My mother taught me well, you see,
To sow, to reap, to say:
( ) (
“While others keep some stones to cast
In anger, greed, or hate,
We throw ours out and plant good seed
Before it is too late.”
) ( )
So seeds were sown, the plants are grown,
And bearing goodly fruit –
And all because no stones remained,
The plants could all take root.
( ) (
So now when wicked thoughts intrude,
Or some would bid me hate,
I turn my thoughts to Godly things
Above the reprobate,
) ( )
Then answer them the simple phrase,
“To that I am not prone.”
My mother bade me cast them out –
My garden has no stones.
by Rich Bailey May 2007
by Rich Bailey May 2007
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