Mother's Day

To My Mother

by Helen Hart Momsen

 

I suppose that into every life, a little rain

          must fall.

 

Lately I have had my share

Of showers.

Very often it seems that

Every time I turn around my skies are gray.

 

Yet, I seem to catch a glimpse

Of sunshine here and there—but even that is

Useless, unless your eyes are open wide enough

          to see.

 

Maybe that’s why God made mothers—to

Open eyes and unclench fists and

Try to make the world a better place to be.

Haven’t I found lately that battles don’t have to be fought alone,

                   and being my mother doesn’t  mean that you can’t be

                   my friend?

Even a small patch of blue when embroidered by two minds

          Can fashion a lovely

Rainbow.