I see you in the garden, Mother One.
“Receive this gift,” your heart gently offers
the plant to the earth.

This garden is your child,
tendered and nurtured by your wisdom and kindness.
I am no longer surprised that you stay
until the last light of day puts your
garden-child to rest in the comfort of darkness.

This is the way of a Mother who is a Gardener.
Who knows about the light of creation
from within and without.
Who loves the Earth by moonlight and starlight.
Who sings a lullaby long after her child is asleep.
Who offers a prayer when no one is listening,
but God.

The altar of my heart does not know an equal light:
This love of a Mother.

Miasha