Mother.
We are your aches and pain -
indenture you must bear.
On kind shoulders
column strong - with prideful grace
for hold of acrobats.
Not dare we tell of minds,
in awe of patient kind
that is your way.
Forgetting belligerence,
regretting not the binds -
you guardian sleep the world,
raising sun and moon as we desire,
tucking in the day.