To My Mother (at 95)

Birds

Dear dark angel sifts her own
Sadly exhausted soul
But honey, sworn in the bay
In green flash wavelets

You rise and begin to play
And ancient madrigals softly swell
In that still amazing voice you lift
To earn the grace of motherhood again

You will recover,
Little very loving mother
Loving and warm as any other
Sisters and brothers and nieces and nephews

All gathered to your call
Together we love each other
But mostly we love you more
I thank you for every moment

For every untold breath of life
You gifted us with those endless talents
And one another and hopefully
We’ll recognize the on-going pleasures

Of brothers and sisters and living
As loving uncles and aunts
Thank you forever little mother.

This entry was posted on January 16, 2014, in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.