The wisdom of the mother is her soul.
\nHow her hands touch.
\nThe scent of her presence.
\nShe must open doors, empty rooms,
\nmake a track in the meadow.
\nMothers teach by their weaving,
\nthe rhythm of their steps.
\nChildren go to the edge of a mother\u2019s voice.
\nRemember her words before they sleep.
\nListen to the echo of her sounds on waking.
\nThere are no Ten Commandments
\nin a mother\u2019s heart.<\/p>\n
There is the attitude of sky,
\nthe cleanness of water,
\nthe gentleness of a song,
\nthe imagination of an elf
\nrunning and hiding in the bushes.
\nShe gathers stones for the hearth,
\nclay for the pot.
\nPlays chase with the mystery
\nsurrounding her children,
\nand lets them find each other,
\nhide and seek,
\nunique as pearls
\nfound in the shells of the sea,
\nglowing and beautiful.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The wisdom of the mother is her soul. How her hands touch. The scent of her presence. She must open doors, empty rooms, make a…<\/p>\n