Painting, Mary Cassatt
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you." -- Kahlil Gibran
This poem is for my children and grandchildren, nieces and nephews, those who have flown, are testing their wings, and those still in the nest. I love you all.
MOTHER'S DAY
Your breath on my cheek
My neck, cold when you leave
My arms, suddenly light,
Raised in thanks and praise.
I learn from the birds.
Relentless in their task,
They feed their young until at last --
I shade my eyes
Against the endless sky
And watch you fly.
