You spanked me when I stole or lied,
yet always hugged me when I cried.
When I knew not just what to do,
I trusted you to see me though.
I felt so safe from all the crime,
as you helped me in your spare time.
Remember visits - Grandma's house,
when I spilled Kool-aid on her blouse?
I remember the circus and clowns;
Elephants, tigers – all the sounds.
I love the animals in our zoo,
but mostly mommy, I love you.
Last year, mom, when I was seven,
You spoke of Jesus, God in Heaven.
Please hold my hand, it's dark tonight.
Jesus holds my other, tight.
Your eyes say I won't make it through,
but I know Jesus loves me too.
You're worried, mom, but please don't be -
Jesus has reached down to me.
I see big scars in the palms of his hands.
He must have worked hard on Heaven's plans.
Forgive me mommy when I wasn't good,
because Jesus did. He understood.
Jesus grips my other hand.
I must let go, He tugs me and -
I wish there was another way -
but let go mommy... it's okay.
©2008 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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