mother’s day

out of the blue she wraps herself around me
warm and comforting and alive
like a fuzzy waking dream that feels so good
i attempt to will myself back to sleep only to make it linger
try to bring into focus the shape of her long fingers
listen for the tone of her voice
inhale the scent of her fragrance.

the dream dims and can’t be resurrected
leaves me unsure of the emotion i was chasing
but then I remember
she would look at me always
as if she’d just stumbled onto the face of the divine
and it seems i’ve spent all the years since
learning to see in that very same way.

~cynthia