A Mother Watches

A mother watches
The rhythms of
Her children sleeping,

As they breathe in peace
So too does she,
May time forgo her world.

Smooth are their faces
Unaware of
A mother's tenderness;

Even less aware,
That in the silence
Beneath the fury

Of this world,
There stands on guard
A benevolence beyond:

A Father,
Whose eyes will never close
Or grow weary.

A Father,
Always by their beds
To cradle

Every troublesome thought,
And move their covers
Just so.