Miss You

Feb 1, 2017
Mama how I miss you on nights such as these. You would bundle up against the cold and sit
outside with me. You would have a glass of wine and a cigarette. We would admire the Stars,
falling over our animals, and talk of things important, and of nothing at all. You would enjoy the
Stars tonight here on the front porch of my little cabin. Pointing out the Cheshire Cat grin of a
waning moon. You would your little dog in your lap, me with a big pup at my feet.
Every time I do something outstanding, I want to tell you. Every time I see something beautiful, I
wish you were with me to admire it too. I want to run my life through the filter of your heart and
mind and await your graceful advice. I want to spread your ashes, a little here a little there. I
want to go back to your Island and immerse myself in you. Some of these things I can do, many
I cannot.
I can still smell you, hear your voice. I can talk but I get no answer. I wish my faith were
convincing enough to me so I could know you watched me, but my faith is tenuous… it is
unproven. All I know is that your spirit has left me. My Touchstone, my healer, my all-powerful
and benevolent mama. Your songs still my head, your ways are my ways. So I proudly wear
your legacy and try to impress it upon the world in some little way every single day. What I
would not give someone stolen hour with you. What I would not do for the shelter of your heart.
What I would not do for you.
MIT LUF MAMA, MIT LUF