Inside the womb of creation
That they have been blessed
Within the miracle of conception
Where a baby grows
Within their mother’s love
That a baby then
Wails aloud a newborn presence,
Wherein the umbilical cord cut
It separates mother from babies.
That thrill of the first breast feeding,
Remembering the first solid foods,
Those funny food faces babies make.
Remembering their first turn,
Becoming a crawl
That then starts to walk
That they soon begin to talk.
Feels the first bumps and bruises
That first cold or sign of the flu,
Putting layers on layers of clothing
To shield them from all harm.
Where too soon,
They grow mom independent,
Mother’s becoming shadows
As Hidden guardian Angel
Sensing with mother’s intuitions.
And Mother’s do cry,
At their baby’s weddings.
David Lester Young (Franklin Doppelganger) 12/16/13 ©