[how] She cares and worries like no other.
Could we have ever understood, had not we been shown –
– there is always reason to love a mother.
In the air, she cradles [her chosen path] a borrowed wonder.
Oblivious to the inevitable: losing her to life – grown
in these arms. She cares and worries like no other.
Swinging high, the tops of trees tickle her infant toes as the leaves smother
them in kisses. Her mother guides the tire through the breeze sewn
into the fabric of springtide. There is always reason to love a mother.
See the falling leafy feathers [back and forth] impossible to recover.
Today, the nest is barren, all the birds have flown.
You must care and worry like no other.
At the ground, there gathers [senses and sentiments] not remnants of summer.
Though you try, always will there be that which time is unfit to postpone.
But never forget, there is always reason to love a mother.
Please, do not go further. Go up – and rediscover
all the rosebuds, for I’m not able to make known
how much I care and worry like no other…
there is always reason to love, mother.
Reflections 