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I will rest in her apartment, unbothered and untamed in

my mother's humble home.

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As a child my mom protected me, nurtured me, and/Taught me so much, but when I was ready she let me fly.

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She has been in my life the best friend I don't deserve, She has never

been fresh, new, she is my constant.

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When my mother was a child, she used/

to catch bees by their wings. Now free, the bees go on their/

own paths to find a new hive.

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I remember

watching them in those moments and waiting

for when they would eventually break out, swiftly,

and steadily, flying into the world departing their

old life.

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Now I'm all grown,

Needing love like that occasionally, but I have already

Felt it.

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Now, I don’t need love like that, I've

had it. I'll walk in glowing, we will talk,

and then, when she thinks I'm fast asleep, I'll hear her exulting

To have me in my childhood bedroom again,

behind that door!

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As a child, I used to/see deer in the light of the early morning, and they/

watched me. Still watching even as I walked away, always/

waiting for something, always waiting to see what I do.

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We will talk and catch up on everything we've missed

When I was once in her arms all the time

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as an adult, I stare

out the window of the coffee shops,

supposed to be completing my college work,

entranced by the rush of the clouds

moving in the sky--I remember the moment the

cloud uncovered the sun, after diminishing its light,

and it shone brightly over the Earth.

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Those nights, she fed me to sleep,

Week after week, the moon rising, and setting, and waxing-

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I still yearn for her love, a love that comforts, a love that never fades, a love that is boundless.

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As a child, I flew

On a swing, higher and higher as she pushed me,

I would laugh, she would laugh,

Look into her eyes, listen to her sing, then swing

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She gently sent me out into the world/

And now I am on the right track,/

With a little help from her.

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When I come home from college, I will see

the wrinkled skin of her upper arms, warm

worn, dull.

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Those nights, I was nurtured,

week after week, the moon rising,

and setting, and waxing--whirling, over the months,

in a slow blur, around our planet.

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Those nights,

she fed me to sleep, week after week, the moon rising,

and setting, and waxing--whirling, over the months,

in a slow blur, around our planet. I have been greatly loved,

I will cherish it forever.

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I will hug her, her warm welcoming body, I will smell her hair.

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"I will run / up to her and hug her, my arms wrapped around / her back, i will smell the scnet of her perfume!"

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Now I am older. I am all grown. I don't need all the love that

my mother has given me still.

I will walk in glowing, I will talk to her when I can,

and then, when I'm fast asleep, She is wishing I

was back at home and in my room again,

behind that door!

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I walk in glowing, knowing I will talk to

my mother, the woman who raised me, who showed

me how to love.