Bright New Daffodils
(to my sons)
The day I first held you in my arms
I first knew the love of Christ-
Surging through me with such power
Its intensity was stunning, rife.
For you I’d suffer any pain,
Give all I have, once and again,
Even my own life.
But epiphanous changes, like spring daffodils,
Wilt in the heat of life’s busyness-
The sun shone down filled every crack
And I ran fast, at a dizzying spell
Of laundry piles, children’s wishes,
Phone calls, meetings, dirty dishes,
And I wilted well.
Until one day an honored guest
Came to visit without warning.
He walked amid my tidy rooms
Then asked, “Where do your children play?
Surprised, I paused and looked around
At all I’d done, but sadly found
My children far away.
My anger grew at his sorrowing face.
“It’s not fair.” I cried. “It takes all
To keep them happy, washed and fed.
Here I give, and you condemn?”
His whisper stilled my frantic heart.
“Dear Mother, you’ve done well your part.
Now, go and play with them.”
I dropped my dust bin where I stood
And ran out to the garden’s edge
My young son laughed and took my hand,
“Mother, see what’s down the hill?”
Through fern and moss we walked at last
To find, hidden from the sun’s cruel blast,
A patch of bright new daffodils.