“When great events were decided, who owned”

the colours in the distant vivid rainbow arc;

the original plans of the once great pyramids;

or thought of reeds and ink, before they made a mark?

Not me. Not you. Nor anyone enthroned,

except perhaps a mother, in love creating kids;

She is standing at a gate, studying and seeking

her offspring at the exit from their first school day.

And all the mothers there, are incapable of speaking,

afraid to miss their child, who should be on the way.

In nervous anticipation, a mother’s strength of feeling,

for such a great event in life, in a moment of portrayal;

and yet the youth will age, with wisdom soon revealing

how truly great, events could be, without a shrewd betrayal.

Breno©