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
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.