Even the gods will punish for wrong,
A mother will never, her love so strong.
The whole world may go against you,
Yet she remains to be with, it's true.

Protecting the precious, her child,
She will face demons, can go wild,
Yet her love for you will be as sea, calm,
Her only priority, shielding you from harm.

For in her arms, you’ll find peace,
A haven where all troubles cease.
As time marches, even gods may turn,
But a mother's love, an eternal one.

She is your greatest teacher,
Don’t you dare to teach her.
You are her life’s priority,
Forever, she is your dignity.

She suffers pain of earthly strife,
To grant you the gift of precious life.
In her arms, you find your worth,
For she's the very essence of birth.

Many have broken her heart,
From which she has poured a part.
A piece of her flesh, is the whole you,
None understands but very few.

So cherish her love, pure and true,
For there's nothing a mother wouldn't do.
In her love, you'll always find a friend,
A bond unbroken, until the very end.

By
Sanji-Paul Arvind

The cornfields whirred by, as your voice droned, monotone in my ears. This fifteen minute drive was the longest of my life; every Wednesday, always twice. To the Church of the Immaculate Conception, where sinful women would teach me about my own impurities– before handing me off to the demon who dropped me off. She would ask me what I learned. I could never muster the enthusiasm to prevent the lecture. Now, she's angry at her ex-husband, shrieking at me because I clench my jaw the same way he does.
The ritual ends as we pull into the driveway. The house and the church smell the same to me. Incense smoke coils near the high ceilings. My bottom bunk greets me as the pillow begins soaking in tears of defeat.
“God, I've prayed in your house. I've prayed in my own. I keep calling out. You keep leaving me alone.”

There lies a tale of love profound,
Every parents' sacrifices, often unsound.
Hard to understand the ways,
As children are in their younger days.

For in parent’s shout, a lesson lies,
In every beating, a love truly tries,
To guide the steps, to light life’s way,
In the hopes of children, parents find their sway.

Through the trials of suffering, stories shared,
Lies wisdom gained, for you to be prepared.,
In every embrace, in every tear,
A parent's love lies, it truer.

Yet in this dance of life's cruel jest,
Children falter, put to the test,
Expecting only to be understood,
While parents give all, as best they could.

The love bestowed, a true treasure,
A legacy of utmost care,
Not for reward or riches sought,
But for a future, dearly bought.

To grant the gifts they never knew,
A love so pure, every day it's new,
But in return, just to understand,
Seems oft too much, in life's grandstand.

But still, they hope, in silent plea,
That children learn, and someday see,
The depth of love, the sacrifices made,
In every step, in every shade.

For in the end, when they depart,
It's not for praise or pride of heart,
But for the hope, that they will find,
A gift of joy, true and kind.

So let us cherish, the love they give,
And in their footsteps, learn to live,
For in their love, our futures lie,
A gift of love, reaching high.

By
Sanji-Paul Arvind

Much like passing seasons,
mild crisp autumns
greet cold winters
as time silvered
her once auburn hair,
yet, within her caring gaze,
that cheerful spark
is often there.

Her hands once always busy,
are now gentle and thin,
her fingers have stiffened
but, they still harbour
strength deep within,
and in a way, it is sublime,
how they lifted, guided,
and carried me over time.

I look at her tiny frame,
as age mapped out the miles
of her life-long journey
around her knowing smile,
and kind eyes.
Some things never change,
like her wise
steely grey-blue eyes,
reminding me of the sky
when rain softly falls.

©️Lizzie Bevis