Poems on the Passing of a Mother

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By:
Clara Hudson

Photo by Liv Bruce on Unsplash

Exploring the profound sorrow of losing a mother, these poems delve into the myriad emotions and memories that such a loss entails. Each piece serves as a tribute to the enduring bond between mother and child, even in the face of death.
8 min read
Table of contents
Veiled Goodbye
Shattered Silence
Eternal Slumber
Parting's Threshold
Whispers in the Void
Stillness After Storm
Evening's Breath
Candle's Flicker
Gossamer Threads
Transition's Lullaby

Veiled Goodbye

She danced with winds, a guiding light now dim,
Through whispered pines her laughter used to flow,
The sun sets soft, the world around grows grim,
A mother's touch, now only memories show.


 

Upon the stars, I cast my silent plea,
For one more glance, her warming smile to see,
Her gentle hands that once rocked me to sleep,
In dreams they come, through slumber's gate they creep.


 

The echo of her voice in sacred halls,
Each note a thread in life's eternal calls,
The tapestry now frays without her song,
The melody to which my soul belongs.


 

With every bloom that nature brings to bear,
I sense her near, in fragrant breezes there,
In petals' hue, her vibrant spirit lives,
In earth's embrace, her lasting essence gives.


 

Though death has cast its long and somber shade,
Her light within my heart will never fade,
For even as the final curtain falls,
A mother's love just shifts to higher calls.



 

Shattered Silence

The muffled drum of heartbeat now has ceased,
In rooms where laughter turned to silent tears,
A mother's touch, from earthly bonds released,
Leaves emptiness that echoes through the years.


 

No words can dress the wounds of such great loss,
No time can heal the paths in shadow trod,
Her stories, once alive, now bear the cross,
A tapestry of life returns to sod.


 

Each cherished memento, a sacred script,
From dusty shelves of sorrow gently lifted,
In each frail page, a memory encrypted,
A life's worth, in fleeting moments, sifted.


 

The threads of care her hands had spun now fray,
In tear-streaked grief, our world turns stark and gray,
Yet in the hush, her strength is somehow near,
Whispers of love that only hearts can hear.


 

As shades of night are drawn o'er day's demise,
We find some peace beneath the mourning skies,
Though taken wing, her essence won't depart,
For mothers live forever in the heart.



 

Eternal Slumber

Life's golden thread, through fate's own shears, is cut,
A mother's journey ends in silent rest,
The open door of afterlife now shut,
Her memory, a solace in our chest.


 

Even as the willows weep their dew,
As flowers bow their heavy heads in grief,
We walk through gardens where she once danced through,
In nature's arms, we seek a brief relief.


 

The casket's gleam, the bitter scent of rose,
Pain's sharp daggers wrapped in soft repose,
No longer in our grasp, her warmth to hold,
Just echoes of her stories, tales once told.


 

In reverent whispers, night's embrace draws near,
A symphony for those who lend an ear,
Each memory a note, a sacred chord,
In love's eternal song, she is adored.


 

While shadows fall and skies are tinged with gray,
Her spirit's light guides us on our way,
In death's deep sleep, where all the lost are found,
A mother's love, within our hearts, is crowned.



 

Parting's Threshold

Gone, the gentle architect of my days,
Who painted mornings with her tender care,
Her tapestry of love in bright displays,
Now yields to night's cold, unrelenting stare.


 

The silent house protests with creaking floors,
Against the void where laughter used to be,
Each corner holds the ghost of chores,
The rhythm lost of our shared symphony.


 

Yet in each tear that carves a river's path,
A part of her, in sorrow's aftermath,
A river stone, smoothed by the stream of years,
Her wisdom lives, transcends our earthly fears.


 

As I stand alone on parting's threshold wide,
Grief's heavy shroud, the price of love that died,
I summon strength from her unwavering will,
Her echo guides my climbing spirit still.


 

Her legacy is not of dust or bones,
But beats within the heart, in silent tones,
In absence grows a presence oh so bold,
A mother's essence, in my soul, takes hold.



 

Whispers in the Void

Now but a whisper in the void remains,
Where laughter's echo once filled open space,
Each corner steeped in loss, the heart sustains,
A portrait hangs, time cannot quite erase.


 

Through wistful sighs, the arduous night prevails,
A search for warmth within the cold expanse,
As dusk unwinds the sun's bright, golden sails,
Eyes closed, I reach for one last unseen glance.


 

Though seasons march, relentless in their stride,
Her essence woven in the winds' soft hymn,
A mother's care, in nature's pulse implied,
In every dawn, her memory does not dim.


 

There's solace in the earth, the sky, the sea,
In every leaf that falls from grieving tree,
The soil that nurtures roots with tender love,
Reflects her nurture from the realms above.


 

In whispered winds, her voice I still detect,
A subtle strength I'll never more neglect,
Though she is gone, within me she survives,
And in those whispers, still, her spirit thrives.



 

Stillness After Storm

When storm has passed, the stillness aches with loss,
Where once you stood, now only shadow stays,
A guiding star we never knew the cost,
Till snatched away, leaving us in a haze.


 

No more the clink of silverware at noon,
No footfall soft to signal safe return,
A hollow echo through an empty room,
For mother’s warmth, we ceaselessly will yearn.


 

The garden blooms, uncaring of our pain,
Yet every flower speaks her name in vain,
She tended life with hands so full of grace,
Now in each petal, traces of her face.


 

The curtains sway, a dance without her lead,
A silhouette of moments, life recedes,
But in the heart, love’s imprint deep will stay,
And hold us close until the end of days.


 

In quietude, a veil of peace descends,
And through the grief, a tender hope extends,
Her soul’s sweet rest, the cosmos gently claims,
In stillness lies the echo of her name.



 

Evening's Breath

Evening's breath took you to the starlit sea,
Mother, whose words were woven deep in me,
Now silence reigns where wisdom once held court,
A hollow throne, where comfort came to thwart.


 

Your laughter, a familiar melody,
Swept clean by winds across the barren field,
Yet still your presence lingers, steadfastly,
A hidden strength, a shield I shall not yield.


 

The kitchen's warmth, the heart of our abode,
Now shivers 'neath the weight of absence found,
An empty chair, the stories left untold,
Within these walls, your essence still surrounds.


 

Grief's pilgrimage to altars unseen,
Kneeling at memories where light has been,
I search for solace under sorrow's shroud,
Your name, the prayer I whisper loud.


 

As day concedes to night's encompassing,
My heart sings thanks for every nurturing,
Within mine own, your gentle pulse I feel,
For even gone, your love forever's real.



 

Candle's Flicker

The candle's flicker wanes, as darkness falls,
Departed warmth from hearth and heart entwined,
A hushed lament within these storied walls,
A cherished mother, now to dreams confined.


 

Her words, once anchors in a sea of doubt,
Now drift on waves of memories recast,
Soft echoes of her being spread about,
A testament that soul outlasts the last.


 

The stairwell creaks, bereft of her descent,
An aching void no footstep can content,
Her lilting voice, a balm for every ache,
Resounding in the silence left in wake.


 

Through gardens she had touched, I walk in gloom,
Each plant and shrub denotes her tender care,
But flowers bloom less brightly, lacking room,
Inhaled by shadow, nourished now by prayer.


 

And still, inside this mortal coil I yearn,
For just one more tomorrow to discern,
A mother's love remains a flickering flame,
In every spark, it whispers her sweet name.



 

Gossamer Threads

A spectral seamstress works in gossamer threads,
Woven from the daylight's vibrant looms,
But now the fabric's torn, the brightness sheds,
Leaves shadows dancing in forgotten rooms.


 

Mother, once the weaver of my dreams,
In heart’s warm locket, keepsakes of your grace,
Now you've crossed through night's silent, unseen streams,
And left an empty canvas in your place.


 

In whispers, cloth of memory unfurls,
Harboring the luster of your pearls,
Each thread a chronicle of days now closed,
An epoch of affection, now decomposed.


 

The mantle clock ticks on, it cannot know,
Of tick and tock, and how we miss you so,
With each pendulum's swing, a soft goodbye,
To counted hours, beneath the immortal sky.


 

Yet through the thinning veil, love perseveres,
Transcending death, outliving mortal years,
While gossamer threads may fade from mortal sight,
A mother's love endures, and holds us tight.



 

Transition's Lullaby

The final breath, a somber lullaby,
Sung in a key of loss, with tender woe,
A mother’s watchful eye now closes by,
Easing gently into evening's glow.


 

A heart that once beat sync to mine, now still,
Her rhythm now the whisper of the past,
Embraced within the folds of heaven's will,
A dance of life that could not ever last.


 

The stories told by fire’s crackling light,
Now embers cool within the hearth’s embrace,
She leaves behind the infinite of night,
Her essence scattered stardust in its space.


 

Beneath the moon’s soft luminescent trail,
I search for solace, yet to no avail,
For nothing fills the void she left behind,
Solar eclipse within my troubled mind.


 

But as the lark sings at the break of dawn,
Her wisdom, like the day, will carry on,
And with each note, her presence seems to say,
In every dawn, I'm never far away.



 

PUBLISHED: Feb 22, 2024
Written By
Clara Hudson
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