Time passes
Suddenly
No longer babies
Girls, grown young
Women
Opinions, humor
Sorrows, joys—
Time passes.
And I yet
Not still grown
Facing demons
All my own
Trying to rear
Beautiful jewels
And yet I still
Need beauty revealed.
I, their mother
The four, my daughters
Connected by blood
Interwoven by gender
Together in Christ
But there remains
This independence of heart
To be ourselves, uniquely apart
My greatest joy
Highest accomplishment
Need not be
A fine house
A luxury car
Clothes suited for a queen
But these souls
To become the finest of women seen
My treasures…
They make me rich—
Oh what poverty of soul
I would know without them
My gifts…
None greater than these
Given from God, my babies.