Our Mothers Knew It


We tiny seeds
Are nurtured with love
Mothers plant us
With shovels and gloves

Mothers pull weeds
For more room to grow
And mount us to stakes
To lean on in snow

Some will grow tall
And some will reach wide
Some will bear fruits
With new seeds inside

If a storm comes,
We know we'll stand through it
And we know this
For our Mothers knew it.



I love the flower metaphor, it goes nicely with the theme. Beautifully written~

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