Spark

I am a
tumbling
fumbling
mumbling
bumbling
mess.
With a spark inside
brought to life
by a woman whose joy breached pain.
More than a learned skill,
A choice.
A choice she made to sacrifice
her physical comfort for me
in life and death.
She gave joy to me.
Now this spark stays &
I am a
burning
flaming
blazing
glowing
mess.
An unwavering human mess.
Happy to share
my Mother’s Joy.

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Is that you? In the wind?

Mommy, 
I like to think that sometimes you are the wind

Or there’s a machine to control the wind 

and you get a turn.

When my toes are in the sand & a rush hits my shoulders, I think of you.

When I feel the wind on my cheek, I think of you.

When a gust wraps its arms around me in the street, I think of you.

You’re always there: watching & guiding & whispering.

I quiet the world,I can hear you. 

I hear you in breath, I feel you in a breeze.

You’re love is a guiding wind.

It grew so great that you had to leave

so you could be everywhere.

Everlasting, Eternal air.