The Mother that once was mine,
is now gone and I cannot find,
that presence that I seek.
Only when I go to bed,
can I hear words in my head.
Spirit to spirit , then we speak.
Sometimes in the stillness of day,
I hear her call and stop to say,
What , mother, do you need?
Gently I feel my hair smoothed,
away from my brow, so soothed.
Spirit to spirit, we are indeed.
A glimpse from the corner of the eye,
movement that is a gentle sigh.
Spirit to spirit, still I seek.
Tingles up and down my spine,
the gentle touch of love divine,
Spirit to spirit, love then speaks,
Mother Mine....
Honorable mention
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