And when the child was grown, it fell on a day, that he went out to his father to the reapers. And he said unto his father, My head, my head. And he said to a lad, Carry him to his mother. And when he had taken him, and brought him to his mother, he sat on her knees till noon, and then died (II Kings 4:18-20).

Carry Me To Mother

“Carry me to mother,” is the cry of every lad,
Who knows the pain of heartbreak, of a life that has gone bad.
For none can feel like mother, all the deepest cuts in life,
Or bind up all the wounds that come from facing down the strife.

Carry me to mother, when my heart is full of joy,
For no one cares like mother for the triumphs of her boy.
No smile can match her beaming face or the sparkle in her eye
when she cherishes the moment with a joy that makes her cry.

Carry me to mother when my tears begin to flow,
For how to make the hurting stop she always seems to know.
Carry me to mother when my laughter fills the air,
For I would know no happiness unless she’s always there.

Carry me to mother when I yearn for something more,
Than all the mundane trifles that life throws at my door.
For who but mom can manage to instill in me the hope,
To seek greater horizons and a life of broader scope.

Carry me to mother when the days are long and drear,
Let her sing to me once more the precious hymns I love to hear.
Let her read to me the word of God and open up my heart,
and with her kind encouragement the will of God impart.

Carry me to mother when my life fulfills its days,
When all the joys and sorrows cease and the sun shines no more rays.
And if the will of God I’ve done and a crown of life I win,
Then before the throne of God I’ll stand and see her once again.

Eric L. Padgett, 2014