MY MOTHER
	Oh, woeful' day! when first my heart knew pain, When first my Heavenly Father seemed to me Too cruel and all prayers seemed in vain! Omniscient Lord! deep hast thou stabbed me- Too deep, too deep for human skill to cure! For hast Thou not in snatching her from me Robbed one whose life was rich, serene and pure? "Mother" - the source and fountain of my frame, Has word a rarer charm to filial ear? Deprived of this great privilege on earth, Of mother's love, her comfort and her cheer, Must I my fate bewail-I fondly ask? For dim and dismal glows the light of life, The cloud of misery now gathers thick, Enshrouding youth in anguish, woe and strife! Celestial Surgeon! Thou who hast known and seen That. pang in every fibre of my heart, Must also know to clear this brooding gloom, And heal this wound and its painful smart! Eternal Rock! On Thee I pin my faith To Thee I cling whilst troubles lash around: Guide, guard, console! Thy Holy Promise keep To fill a mothers place - Thy arms twine round In ceaseless care, though she has ceased through death.
	BLOSSOM KUMARAKULASINGHE 1940