By RavensRoost

Mother, A Cradle to Hold Me

It is true
I was created in you.

It is also true
That you were created for me.
I owned your voice.
It was shaped and tuned to soothe me.
Your arms were molded
Into a cradle to hold me, to rock me.
The scent of your body was the air
Perfumed for me to breathe...

- Maya Angelou

A lovely outdoor brunch at Sue's to celebrate mothers near and far. A delightful time on an unseasonably warm and beautiful Portland day. Bella sitting on her wonderful and loving mother's lap brought to mind the beginning of this poem.

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