thunder of the storm

Hey mom.

I know things have been rough lately.

And some days I see it’s got you too.

Your voice would crack,

your smile would wither,

and you fuss about your hair turning grey.

I see the long nights, you know.

I hear the sobs and the worries on those

quiet sighs;

or the aches, and the way your back would break

on the thought of another day.

Yet, you’re still here, still beautiful, still pure,

still clasping life by root and stem-

through rain, through snow, through sleet or shine,

through love, and loss,

and pain.

A rock that would never move…

bracing hard, against the crashing waves

as the high tide rolls in.

Waiting out the winter snow

and summer rain,

and deafening thunder of the storm.