a poem for mom

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,

is embraced,

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.

three letters,

that make a word,

in the utterance of a son,

eternal.

Happy birthday mom…from an eternally grateful son.