by Michael Shoemaker
Sitting on the chair
she worked with
bills, taxes, mail,
pens, paper, and a pad.
In this, smooth chair
varnished with care
her voice within
would hallow it with
silent prayers.
"Father, today, nothing for me,
all for them.
Please, keep my three boys safe
and let them always feel Thy lasting grace."
I never heard these silent prayers,
but know them as well as the scripture memorized.
Looking past her glasses and through her eyes
I see the words in her heart,
the wellspring of love that never dies