Mamanna

I gaze in amazement
At her soft gentle hands,
Filled with the scars of wisdom
And life.
She tenderly washes the dishes
Examining one by one in detail.
The water is a soapy heaven
In which she places each dish delicatley.
She is unaware of my secret thoughts.
For she is the light
In the dark tunnels of my life.
She is my north star
That guides me in the dead of night.
"What will tomorrow bring?" I ask.
Gazing up through a lock of blonde
she replies...
"A bit of sun to melt the snow."