Her mind sits inside vessel
slowly moving on waters wave.
Her frail body worn
with cloths that hang like old paint.
Her thoughts firing with inconsistency
trying to land in a cohesive thought.

Winter winds rage
as her children and grand children try desperately to toe her to shore,
Pull her to perhaps see a glimpse
of the form she once was.

All that's left is to let the flag of love
be pitched everyday
so she feels it wave.

All that's left is to remember
her regal form of past that moved
with dedication only a mother could give.

All that's left as sun rises
and sets is to celebrate the moment grateful to be in her company.

Company of a grand divine ship
I love so much.