In the darkest of nights even Moon
- it’s face reduced to the narrowest
crescent - hides behind thick
clouds of reluctant silence, a miser
failing to part with one droplet
of encouraging smile. Lonely
apathy rules supreme, solitary,
in the nocturnal palace
of insensitivity, indifference,
heartlessness. Silent night. Unholy night.
Sleepless night. Seeing Ursa Major –
I imagine that Big Bear waving.
And I remain one Little Bear. There
above Polaris I see her Holy Ghost –
the nurturing glance pulsates
to this hour. Six decades of life
humming her lullabies have kept
that young boy captive by caring
offers of coffee sips expertly brewed
in the calming warmth of tight hugs.

The love and compassion that you
planted still grows, still blooms.

And yes, a mother is eternally missed.