The spirit of Mom pays a visit. |
Outré realms have been stirring for many a night; they at first were sufficient to give me a fright. As the wind blew frenetic, afar from the calm, little did I imagine the Spirit of Mom. She was paying me heed from dimensions on high; (I was more than convinced she regretted goodbye.) At my core I perceived she conjoined with the breeze in announcing her presence atop maple trees. There was chill in my spine and a lump in my neck; to be sure in the dark I was one nervous wreck. Yet the driving initiative beyond beware was the knowledge that Spirit of Mom filled the air. Like the strength of a matriarch, breeze pounded roof; (I did not need a visual—this was my proof.) Then like comforting hands I knew well were her love, came a willow-like rush of warm air from above. There were echoes of yesterday coming on through; many parts of the past she provided on cue. All my fears were allayed as her gentleness reigned; so much caring concern as my strength was regained. Then as quick as she came she departed for good; In the chill of that June rain I had understood that the Spirit of Mom paid me homage indeed: loving memories heal—there is always a need. 24 Lines Anapestic Tetrameter Writer’s Cramp 6-17-20 |