Generations of moms
Time passes quickly
while you have a son on your lap,
first in the womb,
then fed with affection and mother’s milk.
Slowly
after the first steps
you give him to the world.
Up close, roots rooted in you firmly,
you have transformed them into wise wings
to go far with the gaze of God and the angels
entrusting every creature,
same rite in the universe,
so do all mothers.
Spends time
and in a mother the grandmothers and great-grandmothers remained
to deliver a burdensome title to her daughter,
to perpetually hear that name pronounce: “mamma”.
Time passes but it seems she has stopped to caress and shake her mother’s hand
in the indissoluble union over the centuries,
the feeling remains intact.
The love that moves the world builds up in that name.
All united,
distant,
only two lips joined from the time of mindful generations to say mom
All unite.
Elisa Mascia
Italy
