\\for my mother

ice frosted windows and
softly whispered lullabies
chime in the air to a tune
of unrecognizable rhythm
and precariously chosen
words.

the fluid motion of fostering
and the sporadic bursts of
rebellion before falling into
slumber for that one last
restless good night
sleep.

the pandemonium that strikes
before morning breaks and sun
shines through whispered curtains
and reflects on traveled carpet
in disco ball patterns in
spring.

Artemis in her lonely chamber
singing on a blissful moon
her melody carried on the wind
to rock the world to sleep
dangling the morning star in her
hair.

a mystery unfolds and silence
overturns the night and
cracks the dawn for daylight
and all that's left is the
recurring image that it's time to be a
mother.

Author notes

i remember my mother singing me to sleep when i was little.

i didn't really think about it until earlier this week when the power went out and i found it hard to sleep without my soft music playing in the background.

i wanted to thank her.

so, thanks mom.