We each have a mother, a simple biological fact,
But goes far beyond the physical act. . .
It's far more than just  birthing a child.

Motherhood is more than sharing genes.
It's sharing hearts, and hopes and dreams,
And nights without sleep as worries run wild.

Standing in doorways watching them sleep,
As your heart prays their souls to keep,
From the terrors and hurts of the world outside.

A catch in your throat as they spread their wings,
And you remember the glorious feeling it brings,
With pride and fear you go along for the ride.

A tremor in your soul when you hear them say,
They're going to do it their own way. . .
And you remember doing the same thing.

Mistakes they have to make on their own,
You have to feel some hurts before you are grown,
The sound of those words makes your ears ring.

Mothers have watched as children became them,
And as they became their Mother's before and again.
A circle in a circle in a neverending round.

We go from watching sleeping babies smile,
Toward watching them walk down the aisle
From bandaged knees to broken hearts found.

Is it worth the effort, the blood and all
When you wait in the night in case they call?
Look into the bright shining eyes of a child...

Spilled milk and lost sleep are the least of it you know.
The wonder and love of watching them grow,
Is A Mother's sorrow and her pride.

See the look in her eyes as she sheds a tear
Knowing they are her miracles, whatever her fear.
And that pride and love she carries regally inside.