THE GAME
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"I win," cried Death with a triumphant grin. "My body, yes, but not the soul within." |
| —Harriman |
MY MOTHER—A PRAYER
For the body you gave me, the bone and the sinew, the heart and the brain that are yours, my mother, I thank you. I thank you for the light in my eyes, the blood in my veins, for my speech, for my life, for my being. All that I am is from you who bore me.
For your smile in the morning and your kiss at night, my mother, I thank you. I thank you for the tears you shed over me, the songs that you sung to me, the prayers you said for me, for your vigils and ministerings. All that I am is by you who reared me.
For the faith you had in me, the hope you had for me, for your trust and your pride, my mother, I thank you. I thank you for your praise and your chiding, for the justice you bred into me and the honor you made mine. All that I am you taught me.
For the times that I hurt you, the times I had no smile for you, the caresses that I did not give you, my mother forgive me. For your lessons I did not learn, for your wishes I did not heed, for the counsels I did not obey, my mother, forgive me. Forgive me my pride in my youth and my glory in my strength that forgot the holiness of your years and the veneration of your weakness,—for my neglect, for my selfishness, for all the great debts of your love that I have not paid, mother, sweet mother, forgive me.
And may the peace and the joy that passeth all understanding be yours, my mother, forever and ever. Amen.
—Tom Dillon