There was a time without Her,
a time when there was nothing there,
but She found me or I found Her amidst the stands of Quaking Aspen,
and now, I know there is no life without Her.
She’s within the very air I breathe,
She’s amidst the sappy bark scenting tall Pine trees.
She calls my name in an angelic dream,
and I can do nothing, but answer Her.
Now I see it was always Her amidst the streets
of my unloved poetry, or so it seems.
It was She who came to my aid
when cold winds whipped my soul,
and raging storms cast me upon briny shoals.
I’ll l love Her to the end of days
even as I slip under the freezing waves.
She’s in the last brown leaves that hold the snow
which I still can see upon the shore.
In the littlest rivulets that chatter downhill.
She’s the mother that gave me birth,
and my story that’s been unearthed.
Even as reality becomes a dream,
when I’m lost to the voices that surround,
and life does nothing, but bring me down,
She’s there. I wonder why She even cares,
I’m just another broken ship that’s wrecked
upon the rocks, and sank beneath rasping wakes.
I hear Her within the sound of crashing waves.
She’s upon the shore that holds tight to snow,
where ducks still rest upon the lake’s ice graying blue.
Where do I begin, to try to be with You?
Must I make a sacrifice?
I walk upon Her path that winds,
though She says Her path is straight and true.
I feel Her amidst the drying , whipping winds,
amidst the fathoms of the darkness, and the deep.
Without Her, there’s no place to call home.
The silence is loud without Her presence,
I look for Her in the aisle of Herbal Essence,
between the potted flowers,
plants with plumes in aromatic showers.
I wait for Her for She is all I know.
My world is a raging sea, and She is there to comfort me.
Such a beautiful piece of work. It brought tears to my eyes as I think of my mother when taking in the spirit of the poem.