I see my mother’s eyes thinking deep thoughts with her mind chasing that memory of the past.
I hear my mother’s voice quoting scriptures.
I feel her emotions when she is laughing or hurting.
I taste Louisiana roots in her Soul food southern cooking.
I embrace my mother’s hand that’s as strong as a man but is gentle and meek of a woman.
I love the purity of her soul that runs deep like a river flowing of her childhood stories retold over and over again.
I am her and she is me, I am her daughter I am an extension of who she raised me to be.
I will forever treasure her strength her prayers her quietness her busyness her beauty and most of all her Love.
Her Love is so honest in how she gives love, shares love, and shows her love.
Through the Lens of My Mother’s Eyes I see her for who God created her to be and in His LENS there is perfection of her beauty inside and out wonderfully made.