When you stirred a life up with your words
Peeled the layers of your past
Pared the skin, tough and bitter
Chopped the pieces into bite-sized
And pounded poems on paper
You gave a gift to me.
While you were writing
You let us feast on parts of living
The ones that live in poetry
They sit bitter sweet on lips of telling
But the white page holds such sweet redemption
Memories, hold the healing.
You carve, with gentle fingertips, the moments of your youth.
As you use your hands, your words for tender telling,
The ones that loved us all along.
And now the gift will live forever.
Oh the power of words,
The love of them, you passed,
That now are mine,
Know now how lovely are your words.
Dedicated to my mother on her birthday, April 22, 2013.
Joining Laura at Laura Boggess dot com