oh, how it feels to love and be loved.
no longer a snarling dog, desperately craving to be fed
and baring pointed teeth anyways,
for fear of being kicked again.
I am a mother nothing like my own,
delivering my love quietly
to those who stay close.
my strength is held in its subtlety,
building slowly through the downpour.
with the ashes long gone and the memories grey,
my garden has grown.
and it is plentiful.