A Mother’s Heart

A mother's heart, a sacred place,
Of clement pulse and firm apace,
Though simple, soft and small, in truth,
Allow verisimilitude,

It stretches far beyond the bind,
Periphery of human mind,
Dilating each parturition,
Encompassing the babe within,

It strains, it pounds, it throbs, it quivers,
It flows with love, each kind of river,
Exasperates each ventricle,
With chambers made of solid gold,

And once it seems the brim it's reached,
For no more love could be beseeched,
Alas, from unknown sources flow,
Capacity to surge and grow,

And Oh! The aches of mother's soul,
The anguished heart she takes a toll,
“Relinquish all!” The mind requests,
The body bids a slumber rest,

But nay, such love will never cease,
‘Twil stop at nothing, still increase,
Such power jolts the wondrous art,
The fervid, gentle, mother’s heart,

For life it gives, it sparks the coal,
Ignites the blessed immortal soul,
A soul like me, who once in part,
Lay a breath away from mother's heart.