All good deeds (including prayer),
Are sewn into the fabric of Love.
No good deed gets left on the spool,
Love could never deny Itself,
But only use the thread,
Which is of the same fabric,
For Absolute Good.
Sewing, sewing peacefully,
And ceaselessly into the night;
Creating a blanket of warmth,
For a world, otherwise at risk,
For hypothermia of the soul.
This poem is dedicated to all moms, especially my mom,
who works tirelessly for love.