I think God took the fragrance
of a flower,
A pure white flower, which blooms
not for world praise
But which makes sweet and beautiful
some bower;
The compassion of the dew,
which gently lays
Reviving freshness on
the fainting earth,
And gives to all the tired things
new birth;
The steadfastness and radiance
of stars
Which lift the soul above
confining bars;
The gladness of fair dawns;
the sunset’s peace;
Contentment which from trivial rounds
asks no release;
The life which finds its greatest joy
in deeds of love for others…
I think God took these precious things
and made of them…mothers.
SAKSnets 