A Gift

She leant down to him,

and whispered in his ear

“I want you to have something.”

So he held out his hands,

wordless, to receive it.

But she placed her hands over his,

and folded them shut.

She pulled him into her arms then,

and enclosed him in a hug.

She said to him, low and quiet;

“I want you to have my love.

Although I may not always be here,

Though these arms may grow cold;

and my heart no longer sound,

I will always love you, child.”

And he looked at her body,

and he knew she was wasting away.

Her arms were dry and brittle,

and the bones peeked through in her face.

But her love covered him like a blanket,

the warmth of it filling his soul

And he knew that though

death might take her from him,

Her love would remain;

a gift.

Wherever he went in life,

no matter the place or the time,

His mother would watch over him,

and her love would be his.



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