You are the wooden paintbrush in my grip,

Guiding my every stroke

Keeping my hand steady.

You are the golden frame around my masterpiece,

Enhancing my work.

You are the faded ripped jeans I wear

The black sweater around my shoulders.

A protective barrier from the cold outside.

You are the sturdy words on the paper

Carefully writing each chapter in my book.

With each page I turn, you keep my mind ready.

You are beautiful melodies,

Leading my fingers across the brisk keys. 

Your harmonies protect my hands from slipping.

You are moving lips

Gently singing the sweet lyrics.

You are closed eyes

Searching for Jesus,

Getting lost in the powerful chorus.

You are the silence in the pauses,

The order in the chaos.

You are the “I love you” that leaves my mouth

Every syllable bringing warmth and comfort.

You are the sun in the vegetable garden

The ripe tomatoes and the savory squash.

You are the heart of the family

The strong roots of our tree,

Keeping me grounded.

You are my most trusted ally,

My constant supporter,

My mother.