Exceptional a free style poem, for my mother At Long Journey's End by Dawn Munro

At Long Journey's End Thin shoulders stoop with age, or is it pain? If so, we pray it doesn't come again -  she's earned a rest. The burdens she's been carrying through life so often someone else's trials - as if her own were meager... poor souls so rife with sorrow, Gabriel himself deferred to God. Somehow this lone woman trod the path of angels, always willing to assist, to give her best, although her back was bent and finally broken; no word spoken to give her praise... Yet we were raised, "Look to Heaven!" lauding Him who gave her strength - her God, for whom she'd go to any length, and we are awed at His creation: Mother. Giver of life, at long journey's end, your God commends you, commands your children follow in your footsteps.   Recognized Author Notes I hear her playing this accompaniment, and although she never lived beyond middle age (unlike this poem's protagonist), this is penned in tribute to a woman who was always a friend to anyone who needed her. She wrote beautiful poetry, but raising three children alone gave her little time to pursue her own passions. My fondest memories are of her at the piano, or seated at our old, chrome table in one of many rented apartment kitchens, scratching out another masterpiece. She saw to it that her children's lives were full of music; Daneill - dance, Dennis - piano, and me - voice. (My rusty, old voice can no longer sing this for you, Mom, but my heart sings it for you always...) Video courtesy of YouTube.

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