Dreams of My Mother

 

Last night I dreamed of my Mother,

Praise God she is still here “in the flesh”

(one of her sayings) so I can call and

hear her sweet voice.  She has carried me

across oceans and decades,

in the swirling mystery of her womb,

held me as a shield against those who

would have broken our family.

She is my heroine, my connection to spirit,

my beating heart and soul.

I don’t know how I will ever live without her

feel crippled even now being so physically far

from her.

I am one of the lucky ones, a woman whose

relationship with her mother was blessed in a holy

union begun far before her birth or mine.

Margaret Eunice Hartley Hills, the golden cord

that binds us, also holds us, unbreakable.

You light my world.

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