Before the Birds Sing

It’s 3 AM, the house is asleep.
A mother silently reads,
quietly reaching for what she needs.

The house desperately needs to be cleaned.
Dishes in the kitchen sink.
Laundry in the dryer for almost a week.
But right now, she simply breathes.

In and out, like the waves of the sea,
desperately trying not to drift into sleep.

Just one more moment of peace
before the day ends and tomorrow brings,
the job of caring for the souls God gave her to keep.

Tired and stretched thin has become a key to her reality.
She wears it like a badge for all to see.
Knowing that one day her job will be complete.
Then she will have plenty of time to sleep.

Until then, she silently reads
beneath the starry canopy.
Slowly finding her sanity,
hours before the morning birds sing.
Holding tight to her hopes and dreams.

Without a doubt dawn will bring,
the pitter-patter of little feet.
Searching for the comfort they need.
Her outstretched arms opened and waiting patiently.

How blessed she is to be called mommy.
A title undeniably worthy
of the highest degree.

Some days drag by thickly,
but the years go by quickly.

So she gathers up the love they bring,
listening as the morning birds sing.
Holding tight to every small thing.
cherishing this fleeting, sweet spring.

For time flies by on golden wing,
yet through the change and everything,
her mother’s heart will always sing
And thank God for the opportunity.