A Poem For My Mother

As a little girl, I would always read bedtime stories about mothers who were sweet and gentle, so naturally, I thought that a mother’s love was just that: tender and warm and sweet. I grew up looking for those qualities in my mother, but I just ended up getting frustrated because she wasn’t what I wanted her to be. But now that I’m older, I’ve come to realize that each mom is different—each shows her love in different ways.

My mother shows hers by being strong and standing up for us. I will never forget the afternoon she held my hand during one of my harassment case hearings. She stormed into the city hall, with her chin raised high, exuding the statement—no one hurts my daughter! I was weak then, but she was strong. She was—and is—my rock.  My anchor. My fortress. My sunshine. My mother.

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My Mother

By Hershey Neri

 

They say a woman’s touch

Is soft and gentle

Like a feather in the wind

—but not my mother’s.

 

She is not a lily in a field,

Basking in the spring sun,

Pretty but fragile. 

 

She is an anchor,

Formidable,

Withstanding heavy storms.

 

A bamboo tree 

Bending in the wind,

Resilient and wise.

 

She is the sunrise on a cliff,

Majestic. 

 

She is the flash of lightning before thunder.

In pitch darkness, she is bold. 

She is light.

 

She is as clever as she is careful,

as strong as she is beautiful.

My mother.