The year begins with cold white nakedness.
Our caring mother keeps us dark and warm
Till we spring from her soil and pass each test
Of movement, thought, behaviour, speech and form
Till faster, higher, stronger we all swarm
Over the soil and trample mother down.
Smiling, she gave us shelter from the storm
Choosing the safest spot to make home ground.
And yet we learn to live without the sound
Of mothers’ voices singing in our nest.
Replaced, forgotten, such is nature’s norm,
Her fading voice in distant tree now drowned
As we try to fly higher, be the best.
Please don’t forget the early bird that caught the worm.
Sun 25 Feb 2007
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