© 2012 Sedef Örsel Özçelik

May 5, 2009

Happy Mother's Day :)








To all the mothers :potential, expecting, surrogate, foster, adaptive, biological and not biological...
The everlasting source of unconditional love in your hearts makes this world more beautiful and living.  
On be half of the children of our old planet, I would once more like to thank you for all your love, patience, compassion and kindness.  
Happy Mother's Day!!!


'To My Mother'

Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,
The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of “Mother,”
Therefore by that dear name I long have called you—
You who are more than mother unto me,
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you,
In setting my Virginia’s spirit free.
My mother—my own mother, who died early,
Was but the mother of myself; but you
Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,
And thus are dearer than the mother I knew
By that infinity with which my wife
Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.

Edgar Allan Poe 
(addressed to Poe’s mother-in-law)


'Mother o’ Mine'

If I were hanged on the highest hill,

   Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine
I know whose love would follow me still,
   
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!

If I were drowned in the deepest sea,
   
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine
I know whose tears would come down to me,
   
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!

If I were damned of body and soul,
I know whose prayers would make me whole,
   
Mother o’ mine, 0 mother o’ mine!


Rudyard Kipling 

(This was the dedication to Kipling’s novel: The Light That Failed)



'if there are any heavens my mother'


if there are any heavens my mother will(all by herself)have
one. It will not be a pansy heaven nor
a fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley but
it will be a heaven of blackred roses

my father will be(deep like a rose
tall like a rose)

standing near my

(swaying over her
silent)
with eyes which are really petals and see

nothing with the face of a poet really which
is a flower and not a face with
hands
which whisper
This is my beloved my

(suddenly in sunlight

he will bow,

& the whole garden will bow) 

e.e. cummings
 

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