Lonely as the quiet of the winter,
her body stood like the ghost of a skyscraper –
once strong, now empty.
Emerald leaves whisper in the breeze –
lullabies grounded in comfort.
She knows her station in this world –
stoic and still.
Her strength and beauty
a fixture in the backdrop –
forgotten but always present.
From the Ashes of Faith
An Atheist Perspective From a Midwest Mom
That’s beautiful.
How much do you remember your mother?
I actually don’t remember my mother. She died in a car accident when I was five. I have pictures and stories from family members, but that’s about it.
I decided to write the poem for all mothers.
It feels like a poem of loss to me. My kids are grown and out of the house and one is married and another is heading in that direction, but one thing about motherhood is that it’s never still or lonely. I think that’s why it seemed to be a poem of loss–still, lonely, and fixed.