Mama

Sometimes the middle of the day

it’s a starry, starry night.

I can’t see the blackbird

fly and need a place to hide away. 

Then I hear you ask me to sing

it’s a beautiful world.

I can’t help but remember 

so many walking days, 

blue skies smiling at me and sunshine 

on my shoulders, you and I sided 

by Yoda Moon.  Mama,

for you I trowel and plant 

parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme 

just outside the kitchen door. 

I will keep listening,

translating for trees and yellow roses

every day. 

And the twinkling chime - there it is! -

goodie, goodie here comes cookie,

 walking down the avenue - 

is that you Mama? 

It is still a beautiful world.