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(25-02-1967 / Springs, South Africa)

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The Eyes Of My Mother

How well I know the eyes of my mother,
her eyes, my mother’s eyes
are eyes that talk without words,
are eyes that look deep into your soul,
are eyes without blame, are eyes without accusation,
are the eyes of someone that understands,
they are beautiful eyes that fit her
and in the wrinkles are written
the story of love and sorrow.

I understand the nakedness that sometimes lies wide in them
like the blue of the ocean
and like the plains of the Free State.
Her eyes sometimes asks for understanding, for love and mercy,
she is getting old this mother of mine

but she sees more than what she is meant to
and at that time her eyes close in prayer
to Him that sees much more than she does,
then there are tears in the eyes of my mother
and when she talks to God
she tells her worries to Him.

Submitted: Tuesday, December 03, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, December 04, 2013


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