11 May 2008

to my mother...

A mother holds her infant son,
And dreams of what he might become,
Content to, with her finger, trace
The lines and features of his face.

And as he grows, through window panes
She watches him, and call his name
Softly to herself and sees
All the things that he might be.

Every task that she performed,
All the sacrifice--and more,
Thinking no one knew she'd done
Still he knew of every one.

Every one he still recalled
And wondered at the joy in all
The time she spent to show him what
It means to know that you are loved.

And when he feels he's let her down
It pains him to remember how
She gently rocked his form to sleep,
Content to dream of who he'd be.

So moments when they disagree
Fly away so fleetingly,
And every day builds strong the love
For a Mother from above.

Travis Shillington
11 May 2008

6 comments:

Making Memories 1999 said...

Travis, you have a wonderful talent! I'm sure your mom (and dad) are so proud of you!! Keep up the good work!

Lenita said...

Thank you sooo much Son....I am proud of you and pray that God will use your life in a very special way.
You made my day!!
I Love you!

Mary Ellen said...

OK - THAT gave me goosebumps, so beautifully (and talentedly - is that a word?) written! You truly have a gift Travis, I am so glad you don't hide it.

Travis said...

thanks rebecca, mom, and mary.
you're all too kind.

Tracy said...

Once again you are fabulous!!! I KNOW that you made your mom feel special!

Chera Crane said...

way to go trav!!! that was incredible...i'm so proud of you & your talent!!! just continue to give it to God & He will use it in great ways!!!