Our Mother*

She's taller now:

too tall to hold 

to cuddle too old; 

queen you were

and she princess

then as now, 

and you

are as you were

in your distance and proximity

words and words not said;

your children, all of them,

are safe

in a cradling that endures

the mortality of passing.

*On behalf of all her children

The conspiracy of night

Life and light in synonymity:

one yields and is also made of the other

but involuntary glance

through random windows 

gives moon-wires 

bent by wind

and blushed by rain

conspiring with ardent trees

and pliant foliage.  

We can paint it

transliterate 

or just breathe it all

and tell our hearts,

“open now 

the beloved has arrived’