After The Surgery

The halls are hushed, the lights too bright,

machines keep time through the endless night.

I sit and wonder, I wait and pray,

for my mom to heal, for pain to give way.

Yesterday feels heavy, etched in my chest,

watching you wheeled in, I could not rest.

The doctors spoke calmly, their voices kind,

but worry still tangled the threads of my mind.

Now you lie healing, though fragile, still strong,

a fighter, a mother, where love belongs.

I study each breath, each flicker, each sign,

wishing your comfort could only be mine.

I want to protect you, to carry your pain,

to take all the struggle and bear the strain.

But all I can do is sit here and stay,

remind you I love you more every day.

You gave me my laughter, my courage, my name,

a love everlasting no hardship can tame.

And here in this moment, with fear so near,

I’m clinging to hope, to keep you here.

The monitors beep, the nurses walk by,

I swallow my worry, but still I cry.

Not from despair, but from love so deep,

a bond that even in silence we keep.

Mom, you are my heart, my guiding star,

no distance, no struggle can dim who you are.

As you rest and recover, please always know

my love surrounds you, it won’t let go.

When morning breaks gently, with healing light,

I’ll still be here, holding your hand tight.

For nothing could matter, no treasure, no other,

as deeply as this: my love for my mother.