Each Morning, Daughters
In these quiet early hours,
before the day begins,
my heart finds its way
to each of you,
my grown daughters.
I float back and back
to our deepest beginnings,
when I had
the sacred privilege
of nourishing
your eversame spirit
in the dark stillness
of dawn.
Wrap her in love,
I pray,
and help her
to be brave and strong
for the day ahead.
Most of all,
I bask
in overflowing gratitude
for the miracle
that is each of you.
By Maria Brady-Smith
Photo by Mike Smith
If your daughters ever write a poem about their mother, I wonder if they could ever convey the depth of your loving soul.
Aw. You are so kind, Paul. They are each just amazing mothers and that is enough for me.
Your words are so deep and touching.
Thank you, Theresa. Merry Christmas to you and yours.