Mother’s Dishwater Grey Radiance

A glance at the mirror

brings a sudden loss of breath,

a calendared reflection of worry-forged wrinkles

made secure by the darkness of closed eyelids,

the private safely embraced by joyful tears

no one else knows.

Such remains the giving life beneath breath sometimes held,

occasionally purged onto tattered pages,

journals of yesterday's memories made permanent upon paper,

the ink forever lubricating the hinges of Experience's perpetual doors.

Yet lucid faith remains alive,

accepting the once Now of yesterday

as but certain dreams made momentarily suspended,

trusting Heart's quill ever ready for tomorrow.

Each day she reveres the next clear stream,

her spigot of Life's hot and cold rushes

remaining the driving momentum

separating chance and purpose.

And of this purpose,

this calling to nurture sons and daughters,

combines the clearness of spirit,

the purity of duty,

and the reward of devotion

into the scrub water of preservation.

Still…

The mirrored inner-image

reminds her that trust never collapses,

hands and fingers continue nurturing the indelible ink

of a child's script upon her heart,

especially as she considers dreams yet ahead.

Even when eyelids occasionally close,

her dishwater grey reflection of toil and reward,

keeps the essence of her maternal love alive.