MOTHER’S
DAY 2015
It’s our little ritual.
9:15 pm I awaken
you and upon arising
you pull your nightgown
over your head, turning
toward me in the
dim light, your body
a nude vision so
exquisite that my
breath is taken away,
and I exclaim how
truly beautiful you are.
During these wake-up
calls, I gaze at you
with the hunger of a
sixteen year old
adolescent boy seeing
a naked woman
for the first time.
Your body flawless,
I see the mystery
of the female form
revealed in all
its beauty and glory.
I see the many
laughs and smiles
we’ve shared that
accentuate the
corners of your eyes.
I see breasts only
grown more beautiful
from the many times
you fed our children
as your cradled
them in your arms.
I see the womb
that four times has
embraced and sheltered
our children, growing
and expanding as they
matured within you.
In disbelief you turn
toward the mirror,
and briefly gaze into
your reflected image
as your reach for
your perfume. The
perfumed mist kisses
the nape of your neck,
that beautiful space
where your neck meets
the slope of your
shoulder, into which
nests the many kisses
I’ve placed there our
forty-six years together.
My eyes are then
drawn to that valley
between your breasts
upon which the
scented mist comes
next to rest, the place
upon which I have
laid my head.
My beautiful Ruth,
well I remember
how critical you
were of your body
when first we married,
believing it too flawed
and too imperfect to
be called beautiful.
Motherhood has
enhanced your body,
a deepened sensuousness
of love and beauty
lived out fully, creating
for me a vision of
exquisiteness that
these poor inadequate
words cannot come
close to portray.
The twenty-two year
old woman I married
cannot even compare
to the woman she is
today, and with whom
I am more in love
than ever, you, the
woman of my dreams.
© 2015. Deacon Bob Wagner OFS. All rights reserved.
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