His eyes fill with tears
Their indeterminate color drowning
His face pleading with her to make all things better.
Immediately her instincts awake.
She takes the child in her arms
Holds him close to her heart
Anxious to make the hurt stop.
She whispers things, volumes of things,
But cannot remember a word.
Her body rocks his back and forth
In a rhythm shared between them from before birth.
Slowly his cries diminish
The tearful flow abates
And the eyes of uncertain color slowly droop
As a power beyond her own, yet a part of her,
Works its’ magic.
At last he drifts off to sleep
And she knows the wonder of being mother.
The Impressions We Leave Behind - This weekend, being the LDS Church's annual General Conference, is one of the busiest for my husband. He helps to cook the food for all the Church leaders ...
5 months ago