I wonder if any generation ever introduced a dance or music that the previous generation didn't consider disgusting and immoral.
God took a little sunshine,
sprinkled it with dew...
Tore from the heavens a raindrop...
Added a star or two.
Snatched the unassuming innonence of a child...
And in an instant, created a Mother's smile.
On the canvas of the sky,
He gently dipped His brush...
With the colors taken from the rainbow,
painted a Mother's blush.
Plucked a flower ever so gently from a garden with care...
With the petals from a rose,
placed patience and understanding...
And the ability burdens to bear.
Took the stillness of the thunder,
blended it with the softness of a dove...
With precision and cunning,
created a Mother's love.
With a dash of blue from the infinity of the sea,
placed in a Mother's heart, truth and humility.
Captured gold from Saturn's ring,
spun it with silver from a Shooting star...
Delicately placed it within a Mother's reach...
So for the luxury of her days,
she would not have to travel far.
And God looked at what He had made...
And He was ecstatically pleased,
for in all creation there was
None as precious as these...
MOTHERS
toya pitre