Beauty

And still there is beauty.

The blue white light of the moon slowly fading.

as the warm, yellow sun rises.

Walking out with my three companions,

the snow freezes my toes.

Thinking of my mother’s face,

reflected in those of my sisters and brother,

Her love carrying us like a wave,

into another day on this precious earth.

I bow my head in gratitude,

for all that has been given to me,

and as she would say,

for all that has been taken.