To My Mother

To My Mother,
by Deborah Ann Frederick

As I see you, I see myself,

In every smile, in every laugh,
In every tear for lost love,
In every time you write, "dear".

It is a timeless conception
Of increasing recognition.
I am you standing lone
As you stood years ago.

Born of your body
Fed by your hand
Shown the true mother nature
That rules through the land.

Through walks among fields,
Looking up at your side
The time learning to talk
Close confidence of a pony ride.

The chickens, the kitties, the dogs,
The lazy pigs. Them and I one
Brought up together under God,
Tumble home at day's done.

The car rides down the lane.
Return from town with gifts,
The Easter eggs you hid.
The playing in snow drifts.

Endless naps under blankies
The clock ticking slow,
The warm smell of you
The afternoon glow.

Born of your body,
Raised by your hand,
Set on earth long ago
To continue your stand.