Connected in this flower;
None above the other.
Some, they may be older,
Just like our elder brother.
We vary so very much;
Grow enemies and such.
But we all contribute
Together to each other--
My sisters and my brothers,
I love you so very much.

We are all of the same stuff,
Organic matter from Earth.
The soil that grows your food
Could've come from a deceased brood.
Then when you, too, pass,
You may turn into grass;
A re-incarnated physical pass,
Into a plant, and the cycle, it lasts--
And that is only the physical pass, lass,
What other realms may you surpass?
Journey forward on, rest-assured,
You are not gone.
You remain alive;
In memories, in energy,
In our Mother, where we reside.
You are always a part of her family.
Your mark is here, and you are loved.
An eternal home, whether you return,
Or move on.
Love you, Mom.