UNCONDITIONAL LOVE

by Teresita Perez

No one mentions the rag
hidden in a corner of the house,
even though it had
once been a silk blouse.
Does it matter
it made everything shine
like a silver platter
putting its own life on the line?

My mother now is old and gray.
Her body and mind are weak.
Does anyone remember her better days
when she rocked her babes to sleep?
Does anyone care she gave up worldly pleasures
to walk her little ones in the path of truth?
In them she found her treasure.
When she finished her labor, she had no youth.



When children filled her arms plenty
she eagerly sought to protect them,
though they were the reason many
as if she and they were rags, did reject them.
"What's the use of your sacrifice?"
some dared to say.
"Your children will yield to vice
and evil will be your pay."

Yet, she loved them more instead,
endured devout, ever giving,
while years silvered her head,
lines on her face leaving.
A willing servant to them
with the Spirit from above,
she'd do it over again.
That's unconditional love.