Mother, are you listening

Part I

Your little boy — see his eager eyes,

Quick to question and surmise.

His little mind alert to learn

Something new at every turn.

 

See, mother, how he runs to you,

A loving, laughing boy of two;

To throw himself into your arms,

You, his shelter from all that harms...

 

But harm there is, so stark and real!

This little lad can’t laugh, can’t feel.

This picture really is a fantasy.

He wasn’t born at all, you see.

 

His yearning to be born was thwarted

When at three months he was aborted.

 

 

Part II

For what can I be thankful,

This lovely August morn?

Well, first of all, I’m thankful

For this simple fact: I’m born!

 

For the fact I was created

And my mother gave me birth

That she set my feet quite firmly

On God’s gift to man, this earth.

 

If I had been aborted

I’d never come to know

The power and love of Jesus,

Or that heavenward I’d go.

 

This life is much too precious

To be snuffed out ‘er its start

Because a human being,

Loath to do her part.

 

She did not shelter in her,

Her helpless human mite;

Who, without nine months within her,

Would never see the light.

 

Oh ladies, we beseech you,

We ask you, “Can’t you see,

That this fetus you’re aborting

Is a potential you, or me?”

 

If your mother had aborted

Her fetus, early on,

Your chance to be a woman,

Forever would have gone.

 

And so, I say I’m thankful

This lovely August day;

For the mother who was willing

To have me all the way.

 

The way that leads to Jesus,

Where I will see Him face to face;

And share with Him forever

His eternal resting place.