Where are you now?
You who were so warm
who cradled me
in doting arms–
Where are you now?
Your voice, your face
your soft, pillowy embrace
were once
everything
I knew
I could identify,
and thereby
my needs and longings
pacify–
Where are you now?
You were the one
gave me a name–
I was the picture;
you were the
protecting frame–
you sought
and brought
the joy
with which
my life’s first smile came–
Where are you now?
You taught me more
as more I grew,
you took me to the store,
you gave me crayons
and I drew. . .
the bond of eons
so well personified in you–
Where are you now?
You read to me,
I learned words
and ABCs,
colors, shapes
simple feelings, thoughts,
and understanding. . .
rolling, creeping, sitting, standing–
Where are you now?
You taught me
water, sand and sun
sequins, glitter;
how a needle
two cloths soft
securely tethers
you tended me
in harder days
(and better)–
Where are you now?
You sang to me. . .
I learned to dance. . .
I learned to flip. . .
and ride a bike. . .
You pulled me on the snow
with a pole
and your own hands
and now,
I love to ski,
though that was never
in your plans–
a role
so vital
to my circumstance–
Where are you now?
You were there
to be awoke
at some wee hour
to calm my fright
cowering at some fearsome power–
Where are you now?
I could be angry,
maybe am,
that you weren’t better,
and I knew not how
I could reply with spirit
when you would give me
legalistic, petty letter–
even when
it really mattered–
But you’re no longer here–
Mostly all that’s left
to do
for me,
is think
of all your light so pure,
in your past
and present beauty. . .
And to be
quite sad.
For you were
my all in all,
the only
and the best
Mom
that I ever had.
