My mother is a time traveler
a trans-dimensional being
she exists in space-time in permeable fashion
here, with us, now
and simultaneously with friends long dead
eerily, radiantly aware of her impermanence
and confusion
frightened, sad, saucy, funny, and always, always
deeply connected to the mundane
the small things
not so small at all.
My sister is a lighthouse
Solid as the rock that anchors her
to the land and sea
She withstands pounding and crashing
with grace
with grit
Resolute and watchful
Exhausted more by the uncertain calm
attentive to the sounds of winds, waves, and birds
the small things of life
not so small at all.
My mother is a time traveler
today, she takes her longest and most mysterious journey
away from us, in some ways
radiantly aware of her own impermanence
she exists in space-time in permeable fashion
here, with us, now
and simultaneously with friends long dead
The stars are alive with joy at her delight
in the small things of life
not so small at all.
