See berries red as blood among the thorns
the remnants of a summer long since bled
it's funny how a memory adorns
the promise of new life that lies ahead,
as all about the barbs are buds that swell
with foliage impatient for rebirth,
the air abounds with musk and you can smell
the need to be at one with mother earth.
And as I think of mothers I am stirred
to honor she who gave her life to me
while mourning dreams she never could pursue;
I can't undo whatever wrongs occurred
but know her troubled spirit's finally free
as surely as the cycle must renew.
***Happy Birthday Mom***
Are You Reading Me?
5 comments:
That was beautiful. Thanks for sharing it.
Yes, Happy Birthday! And yes, that was beautiful.
(squeak!):)
Thanks, my obligatory spring poem ;-)
This is a really beautiful poem. It starts out with all this visceral and potent imagery, and then carefully slides into deep and meaningful reminisces – and then crowns it all with a revelation. A really excellent poem.
Thanks a lot Matt, I wanted to write something special for her birthday.
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