from momma

The frame broke, but I don’t want to lose the poem my mother wrote and framed for me last christmas (07)

She came as scheduled. Came by appointment. All was planned and prepared. She nuzzled, with toes pushing, propelling body ’til head wedged ‘tween Momma’s neck and chin, still has a way that pushes in.

Questions were many. All had to be learned. Forging trails to understanding, linking to previous knowledge ’til discovery occured. She needed to know what was in the middle of the earth, had to understand gears, and how things worked. Why and how were her favorite words.

She has a heart for Him, always has, always will. He, the only Teacher who can satisfy her need to learn, to grow, to become, to master.

He, who leads her, transforming knowledge, to wisdom, to understanding.

She, the seeker. He, the sought. She hears His voice say, “come,” and she does.

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lenticular?

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Keep me away from the wisdom which does not cry, the philosophy which does not laugh and the greatness which does not bow before children.
-Kahlil Gibran

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