My mom!

I’m everything to her,
she buys everything in me,
and she has a faith in me
and all the hope with in me.

If not my being
is there, in anything,
it all means nothing
for her, as I am big,
bigger than the world
and than anything it could offer.
But, I am everything,
even when there is nothing. 

It is my usual perplexity that
her eyes give me wings
that I couldn’t touch;
but I see, whenever I see her,
my soul overwhelmingly swing. 

She has been the light
whenever I get in a dark
that I survived the hardness
of the darkness;
and a life saver shade,
when the sun is over my heart. 

I always have been defiant.
But, growing up,
even after prepubescence
I wouldn’t do, what she’d decry
or she wouldn’t like to be done,
and would make her heart cry;
[something, if done
that she would die to undone.]

Her soul has been
a red line that I won’t cross,
if not discussed and settled,
or unless I feel that it is good:
that I grew up caring for her instinct,
meaning ‘ታዝንብኛለች‘. 

She believes in, I didn’t,
that I am the world.
While I am not even close
to be a piece of land
that she deserves to see. 

If I smile, she would smile
if I frown, she still would smile
and try to infect me.
If she cries, the sky would,
or the sheet hold, on the bed
but I never saw. 

/Yohanes Molla/ 

Long live my mom ❤ Happy mother’s day to all mothers!