This is my remnant, my memory of my mother,
That all is good, as is everyone around and about,
That we all can be good, can make the world a better place
Just by being in it, by loving and trusting and respecting one another,
By treating each other with the attention we all crave and deserve,
As one human to another, I reach out my hand in assistance,
And in giving receive,
this was the blessing and the prayer she gave to me
Each and every day sacrificing herself
to the world as cold as it can be,
Just another Giving Tree, standing still
while the whirlwind spun around and about
Her arms offering the worlds’ wisdom,
knowledge spun into sweetened gold
Her body, earth’s heart beating inside,
Until she could give no more,
and held up entirely by her will alone,
will never again be seen walking or smiling
or giggling about some misunderstood phrase
or garbled sentence,
which being said would frustrate most,
To her just another ‘wicked’ joke,
something enjoyed and shared,
In her last moments
Straining to reach out across the vast breadth of space,
through the transceiver of the plastic telephone held to her face,
willing to tell me all was well, that she loved me
around the world, galaxy, universe and everything,
and back again, hasping breath desparate to put me at ease,
I told her that she was free, that it was ok to let go,
A more beautiful soul I will never meet.