Feet placed flat on wood floor.
Back straight against brown couch.
Fingers hold slender black pen on blank page.
Thoughts of mom extend far beyond me now.
After yesterday’s sudden rainstorm of tears,
images of her return in a circling I can see.
Pictures penetrate my left heart space
where warm feelings solidly sit.
A massage of the core of my being begins,
includes our whole relationship
through time, her sad childhood wrapped
in grief’s shawl and the feisty strength of laughter
shown as well.
This completion is soothing,
forgiving,
fully accepted.
Feet flat on floor,
the room, the day,
my life, open
once more.
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