Gratitude (For my Mother)

I see you on your knees, and it makes me smile
Because you still take time to think on the littlest of these
Things small in the present, but large in the scope of things
Rarely escape your gaze
Mindfully, you hold my whole world in your hands
A sage and a saint, the wisest of all living things
Your sweat is my sustenance and your blood the fuel
That propels me ever onwards
Until I eclipse that which you have built by your own hands
And achieve those goals whose sole reward is the smile in your eyes
And the enduring utterance of pride upon your lips

If I called you … (a series of unfinished thoughts)

If I called you friend
Would you captain my ship through the darkness
Steering my soul through that which may come
As we chase the things that bind – slaying that which separates
And grow old together and die in each other’s arms

If I called you queen
would you marry me under the light of the full moon
and join me under the cover of sycamore trees
as we make children as bountiful as the desert sand
and grow old together and die in each other’s arms

And if we became enemies
Would you do battle like the righteous
Sparing me that which I deserve
Saving me from damnation garnered by my own secession

For in life we love, unite, but we sometimes pull apart
In-part due to selfishness and a penchant for pain
Thus remains the status of the modern union
But to us I wish an acquaintance only of the former
For all things that come after are wretched and unkind