The trees dance, the airplanes fly and the sun brightens the earth that I live on. How beautiful life is...with water to use, food to consume and a place to sleep. As the days pass the memories fade of those that have once seen the trees dance, airplanes fly and the sun brighten the earth.
Music of old brings sparks of a past that I never dreamed of wanting. The thought of my mother who tried to be a mother. She slept many days, rocked in her bed and drowned out the pain with her music. She cast out the demons with prayers in her heart that brought thoughts of only living.
For her to sit under a tree, fly in a plane and feel the warmth of the sun that surround her. Seemed out of reach because of the sadness that brought a barrier to strong for her to break down.
I envision my mother a sweet one at that who tried to be loving and did not require anything back, beside a smile. My grandmother's words strike a cord of unbearable pain inside her.
To know that my mother lost out on a world filled with places to see, people to meet and dreams that never surfaced.
Now that she is rested peaceful near my father. I wish those days of old would come back so I could use the wisdom I have now to help her reach for the dreams that died with her.
