Silent Warrior
As a youth in the 60’s
I was so angry
that she wouldn’t stand up
in her own life.
The world outside
brave and suffering
for its freedom,
its dream, its hope;
defining a new age
while she remained
afraid . . .
to speak, to fight.
Secretly she lost my respect;
I was ashamed of her weakness.
It would take many years
for me to see
how wrong I was,
how strong she had to be
silently fighting
her battles in her own way;
many of her prayers bouncing
off the ceiling
while her faith in another day
strengthened her resolve
for her children’s futures.
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