The Mother of God

William Butler Yeats, born June 13, 1865, and died January 28, 1939, was an Irish poet and dramatist. He was awarded the Noble Prize in Literature in 1923 giving him the distinction of being the first Irishman so honored. Yeats has the distinction of being one of the few writers considered to have written his most distinguishing work after being honored with the Nobel Prize.

I see it fitting to share his poem titled, "The Mother of God", in observance of Mother's Day. It is my prayer that every mother will find a blessing, no matter how seemingly small, in this special time set aside to recognize the importance of our dear mothers. Mothers are special people that likely will only ever be completely understood by those that carry the same title. Being a mother is not a 9 to 5 job, but rather a 24/7/365 commitment for life. It never ends...period. When one signs up to be a mother it is likely the extent of the commitment is not realized. Irregardless, we are there rain or shine, good times and bad, achievements and failures, rested or sleep deprived...you get the idea.

If you are a mom, sit back, relax, put your feet up, and just be still if only for a few moments. You've earned it. Revel in it. If you are not a mom, do something today to honor a mother in your life, be her your own or not.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

The Mother of God by William Butler Yeats

The threefold terror of love a fallen flare
Through the hollow of an ear
Wings beating about the room
The terror of all terrors that I bore
The Heavens in my womb
Had I not found content among the shows
Every common woman knows
Chimney corner, garden walk,
Or rocky cistern where we tread the clothes
And gather all the talk?
What is this flesh I purchased with my pains
This fallen star my milk sustains,
This love that makes my heart's blood stop
Or strikes a Sudden chill into my bones
And bids my hair stand up?