Flowers on Sunday Are You

This seems like the picture you wanted to make, with the glowing gold petals and smooth cream petals, in the whimsical Spode cup as big as a tea pot.  It’s not quite as soft as your watercolors, but I could tell you were pleased.  No forsythia yet, but the yellow witch hazel are blooming at the gardens now, even with the heavy snow that covered up the snowdrops yesterday.  Your did not get a farewell walk at Olbrich – but we can go on Tuesday.

Was it a new beginning for you, Mom?
It seems like that is what you told me,
in that darkest morning, almost sleeping,
surrounded by a silent voice.
“You are about to meet a self you have never known before.”
I heard, and I believe at that moment you freed yourself and me
And flew, as sure as any spirit that ever left or held the earth.
Today the surface of the lake, a quicksilver mirror
ruffled with jagged uncounted waves
I pray you see your self reflected
Unknown parts and entirely whole.
A self you could not know before, now in everywhere you are.

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3 thoughts on “Flowers on Sunday Are You

  1. Oh, honey! So yellow for her! She would so love it! I know that, in fact, she does love it. She will indeed go Tuesday. She knows. Love you.

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