I cannot read minds, but I can read harts, <br />Harts of mothers, whose offsprings are ill, <br />In agony, in pain, in cry, in tear, <br />Thy mine, my baby, my soul, I can bear. <br /> <br />I can feel harts, but I can’t read minds. <br />Lacrimating eyes avoid the lights. <br />Had sleepless nights tired beside newborn— <br />Just saw sun rays after being nine months in haze. <br /> <br />I can feel harts, but say not minds <br />As I have harts away from me. <br />I cannot sleep full nights, <br />So feelings beat equally. <br /> <br />I can read when she asks me to read, <br />Help when she sounds, Not all Mums <br />But some blocks for you to reach their sick kin. <br />Needs cranes to pull, to feel, to treat, and to preen.<br /><br />Sylva Portoian<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-can-read-mothers-hearts-like-mine/
