When I See The Flowers..

The laps of these two mothers are warm, To cuddle and squeeze to keep in their palms, If warmth is the temperature of love, Then they have the love in their burning stove, One is planted with a seed to produce one or a few, Another has the huge appetite and has to be fed always, The one gives birth mostly in pain, She is the only one, who cries and weeps, While the rest waiting in anxious pleasure, The one, who takes all, keeps her mouth open, Always in jolly mood to convert the dead to organic, While the rest, watching in tears and heart break, These two women are great, When they meet one another, And are planted in the hearts of spirits, They bloom as the blossoms, The roots still hug the earth mother, The mothers have become the beautiful flowers. when I see the beautiful flowers, I always hold it softly to feel my mother.