A friend and co-worker recently lost her mother to cancer.  The day of her mother’s death, my friend posted to her Facebook page, “I love you more than the sun loves the sky.” 

I’m sure I’ve heard this before, but I started thinking about moms and daughters.  In seconds, I attached quite a bit of imagery and emotion to the phrase, knowing what it’s like to be the center of my mom’s universe but also having the experience of being a mom and devoting myself wholeheartedly and without regret to my kids’ needs.

While I’m not the most skilled poet and it’s been many years since I’ve attempted to write in this genre, I felt compelled to pen some thoughts on the theme. 

Hug your mommas, dear friends.

I Love You More Than The Sun Loves The Sky

The sun is often credited for the brilliance of the sky.

Mesmerized by a dance of whimsy, we watch her daily rise and fall.

Even the sky delights in the sun’s performance,

Smiling as she holds court in majestic rooms of gold.

 

Mankind claps an ovation of praise, a tribute to all things beautiful.

Then we watch the sun ever so slowly slip out of view.

The sky is patient, silent, as her daily companion departs.

She sits in wait, the horizon in view, a secret on her lips.

 

For she knows there exists no brilliant dance of light,

Nor praise of man to sun,

Without her own heavenly purpose fulfilled.

With quiet grace she holds in her arms the whole of God’s creation.

 

Yes, I am the sun, the center of your world.

You held me in infant slumber, you held me both happy and sad.

You held me when girl became woman, though in a different way, I know.

And you quietly supported me in each rise and fall.

 

But you are more than my mother, your soul so broad and deep.

The sky to many suns, your arms have held them all.

Pictures reveal the woman behind the wife, the mother, the friend,

And from everywhere love pours down as the heaviest of rains.

 

Now you have departed from this earth, as my grief knows so well.

I won’t say you were, for the sun will always need a sky in which to rise.

No, you are my mom, my friend, and my heart,

And I will always love you more than the sun loves the sky.

 

God cradles us both now, as he has from the start.

We are sun and sky together telling our story of love and light.

And I’ll honor you by letting my light shine on, dear sky.

It is my turn to wait patiently to fall into your arms again.

In memory of Karen Inez Martin and in honor of a daughter’s love.

[kendy]

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