there is a place where,
it is safe to be just our own natural self,
no need to put up a front,
or that constant nag to be perfect,
to win approval by success,
or having sizable assets.
your hands were always outstretched,
to receive whatever was a sense of rejection,
i placed, at a point of time,
when i thought about you less,
a foolishness i now regret.
when there was a point of time when,
my life was hanging by a thread,
sometimes it still feels that way,
you chose to believe,
something what others could not see,
for you knew me,
when others only saw a fraction,
just a sizable amount,
which many equaled subtraction,
but with you,
whatever i am,
with this warm felt affection.
i would call,
or when we had our conversations,
i’d brace you with my wild imaginations,
ideas i cooked up from who knows where,
but you were always an attentive listener,
even though some of it was beyond listening.
there are many other things that i would like to say,
but words cannot begin to describe,
or define how a son tries his best to explain,
his love for his mom.
that make a word,
in the utterance of a son,
Happy birthday mom…from an eternally grateful son.