I have so much in common with you, Earth, Though just a mother with a weary soul. You cradle everything that springs to birth Within your loins, and scorn no worm or mole. I, too, am soil about the blooms of life Whose fibers are imbedded in my breast, If they become uprooted by the knife Of passion and are torn, I offer rest. Oh, patient mother, teach me how to give. Oh, feed the April in me that I may Keep smiling while these blossoms strive to live; Though storms and bitter conflicts dim their day. I know fruition, earth, I understand Why motherhood is kin to fertile land. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NATURES COOK by MARGARET LUCAS CAVENDISH THE AWAKENING OF THE TREES by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE ROAD TO SLUMBERLAND by MARY DOW BRINE RAMESES WORSHIPS RAMESES AT ABU SIMBEL by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR THE CANTERBURY TALES: THE FRANKLIN'S TALE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER |