A Yearning

by Samantha Aramburu

A Yearning by Samantha Aramburu

Yesterday I said a prayer,
And in His kitchen, God found it there.

It wasn’t addressed to him, however.
“Honey,” He called, “You have a letter!”

She walked down the hall, her footsteps brisk –
“Thank you, darling,” she said with a kiss.

She opened my prayer, so gentle and sweet,
And moved closer toward me, taking her seat.

A daughter that spoke with Her husband oft,
And yet, with the Mother, the lines had been soft.

But here she was, with this prayerful thought,
Calling for Mother, in a moment distraught.

“Mom,” it began, “Mom, please,”
“Mom, if you’re there…” and her mind seemed to freeze.

The Mother nodded, hearing her pause,
Clearly understanding the cause.

She moved closer to her – to me – and replied
“I’ve been here always – I’ve been your guide”

“Those moments of warmth when beauty prevailed
Over trials and times when you thought you had failed,”

“The strength that came from seemingly nowhere,
And helped you succeed despite your despair.”

“The mornings when you woke and felt so ignored,
That turned into evenings with friends you adored.”

“The conversations with people, lonely and scared,
When you loved them and were the person that cared.”

“The time when your friend died, and through your tears,
You felt her presence and knew she was near.”

“When you fell in love and he broke your heart,
And yet nothing seemed to fall apart.”

“When daily life felt so mundane,
And you found a passion that helped you stay sane.”

“When life itself became heavy and hard,
And you felt someone there, standing at guard.”

“My daughter, that was Me. It was Me all along.
I’m the one that has helped you be strong.

“And now is no different. I will always be here.
I am your Mother – so you have nothing to fear.”

I looked at my Her, and saw, at long last,
The part she had played in my life now past.

There, with my Father and Brother Divine,
She stood, as a part of eternal Design.

She was there at all moments – not just only
The ones where I had been achingly lonely.

She was there for joys, pains, and even the days
When I had ignored Her heavenly gaze.

She was there, then and now – She was always there.
And had listened for my yearning prayers.

“Mother,” I started again, my voice now strong.
“Mother, I need you. There’s this trial, so long,”

She curled up beside me, my head on her breast,
Finally, at long last, I felt I could rest.

And so I learned to speak with both my Parents above,
Filling Their kitchen with letters and love.

Brown paper envelope on table