A Mother's Fever

Somewhat feverish are the likes of you

bringing worry, bringing eternity's concern,

for in youth I trouble to keep you safe

but once gone, what more can I do?

I think and wonder as days pass by,

will you remember all the joy we shared

or will I only be a past, a memory someday you'll remember

and I might have to wait years before you do?

In my arms you make it so easy for me to believe

that you'll grow well, safe, loved, and live your dreams,

but when you run to catch the butterfly

I worry about the bee following fast behind.

When days are sunny I think of all you could achieve;

a successful life, a happy home, a beautiful flower you will become,

but then the clouds collide, and lightning strikes

and I think of the danger, your safety, and I'm frightened.

The touch of your soft hand, half the size of mine,

is like the comfort a soft blanket brings in a storm

and the sweet, innocent look in your lotus eyes

brings me hope; I have faith in you.

So the days will pass by and you will grow

like a glorious feather you will stay until the wind blows

and I'll worry, for you are the greatest part of my life,

but once you are gone, what more can I do?