Mystery of mothers all over the world

It is still a mystery the way leaves all over the world jump out of sprigs under a single yellow sun who comes out to shine the coats of squirrels that run along a horizon of branches.

It is still a mystery the way the eye takes fields of blooming Common camus and makes them clear water lakes.

It is still a mystery, in front of all this beauty, that men cripple their minds plotting violence.

It is still a mystery the way our masks become our magnificent transparencies when we’re in the arms of a trusted community.

It is still a mystery the way knowing you are loved allows you to be happy when you’re all alone.

It is still a mystery the way mothers all over the world keep making new stories of boundless love as naturally as you prepare breakfast.

7 Comments

  1. This is lovely Stephen. Lovely words on a rainy day in here in Pennsylvania, where leaves are a bit late jumping out of their sprigs this year.

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