Photo by rachel_thecat @ flickr
One Mother and One Child
Her arms encircled me gently
Cradling me to feel secure.
We swayed in the creaky rocking chair
Quietly whiling away our peaceful day.
On warm mornings as the sun strayed into my room
I was waiting for her voice, her steps, her arms reaching
Down to scoop me up from the crib when I could not sit,
Frustrated, lonely for company, awake for hours waiting.
Sometimes, in the brisk Spring winds
When the air was cool and crisp and new
We planted purple and yellow pansy faces
Into a little round garden by the back door.
On a sunny warm afternoon in summer
Upstairs in that cold creaky old house
She would run the bath water to play,
Then towel me off while kids played in the yard.
She posed me for grandmother’s photos,
Sitting on her lap with a huge chocolate cookie,
Me smiling at my prize with erupting giggles,
She and grandmother laughing at my simple joy.
She listened to me sound out my first reading words.
She guided my hand as I wrote my letters backward.
She helped me count favorite sounding numbers on my fingers,
Later I enjoyed writing in crayon on my flowered bedroom walls.
She delighted watching me rake leaves in the side yard,
Especially when she saw they were house blueprints
With doors and windows and fireplaces and gardens.
She wondered where I learned to draw blueprints on the earth.
She painted in oils on canvases high above my head.
For months working on one painting of the sea she loved.
She looked so intent and peaceful, fulfilled with her art.
I watched over her as she explored her inner universe.
She loved to go out in the boat to nearby islands for picnics.
In the summer our cabined boat skipped over the rough seas,
Docking at a remote island to bake our meal in the sand, where
She would sit on the slippery island rocks, washing her long hair
As I observed her going about her day, giving an ear to friends
Who would call with their daily troubles, she could not say later.
Hours they would keep her on the phone that she laid down to
Wash the dishes, sweep the floor, come back and say, “I understand.”
One day she was no longer there in my day or my night
She passed away before her time, worlds still to explore.
I still remember her melodic voice, her lips stained deep red
Her flashing brown eyes, her long beautiful hair that smelled so good.
Death separated us to live differently, our world was changed.
Forever after our spirits still hug each other, warmhearted.
Our times together then and now were in thoughtful silence
Bur the Love in our hearts never stopped singing...
Denny Lyon
Copyright 7 May 2010
All Rights Reserved
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