Hilda H. Martin
August 17, 1913 - July 09, 2010
photo
Your Mother is Always With You

Your mother is always with you...

She is the whisper of leaves
as you walk down the street.

She's the smell of bleach
in your freshly laundered socks.

She's the cool hand on your brow
when you're not well.

Your mother lives inside your laughter
She's crystallized in every teardrop.

She's the place where you came from,
your first home...
She's the map that you follow
with every step that you take.

She's your first love,
and your first heartbreak...
And nothing on earth can separate you.

Not time, not space...
not even death...
will ever separate you..
from your mother.

Butterfly

As you danced in the light with joy,
love lifted you. As you brushed against
this world so gently, you lifted us.

T.C. Ring