What is a Mother?

Her children rise up and call her blessed; Her husband also, and he praises her. -- Proverbs 31:28

Her pleasant voice sang me to sleep,
When I was afraid to close my eyes,
She stirred the pork and vegetables over the pan,
As I looked upon, on stool, tall as a man.

Her angry eyes flashed my mischief across the screen,
A projector showing a movie I wish I couldn’t see,
But despite the boy I used to be,
She graciously shared her heart to me.

Now that I have diapers, milks and bills to mind,
And a woman who hums against clatter of dishes,
The mother who once upon twinkled only across the sea,
A little unknown star, now is clear to me.

Ah, a mother once saw only her face in the mirror,
Her mind was once a basket full of clothes, bags, shoes;
Who enters a gate cheered by familiar faces,
Knowing not, her path ahead was a thousand guesses!

Then she hears the cry of the first baby,
She floats around like a butterfly,
Squeezing and admiring the life that’s from her,
Saying ‘ugh’, her pooh she almost couldn't bear.

Then she heard another baby’s cry.
And then another. And another!
She forgets the days of the week,
That familiar face in the mirror she now couldn’t seek.

Then the baby coughs, her temperature high!
The fragile girl who once could only sigh,
Now springs about like a seasoned soldier,
It's clear no mountain's too high for a real mother.

Yes, she’s still afraid of the dark,
But she is very brave.
Yes, she couldn't lift a big bottle of mineral water,
But she is very strong.

Yes, she could turn around to her carefree past,
But she wouldn’t.
Yes, she could look at her mirror ‘all’ day long,
But she didn't.

Why I know what's a real mother?
Because I was with one. And now I am with another.
They are made of stuffs that could only come from above,
Different they maybe, yet they both are made of LOVE!