Dedicated to mother’s around the world:

Silken threads of errant dreams,
from her delicate hands flow.
Forming a trail, forever crisscrossing
gently across our feeble lives.

Touching but momentarily, yet
leaving a tender braid of steel,
with which to search out and find
another tenacious wisp of string
with the never-ending need to bond.

Every step she takes, another decision.
Trapping all in a web of mixed visions.
fantasy and reality, tightening the minds,
kneading the strength into each strand.


As tears fall from her weary eyes,
to create translucent beads of silver,
by which to light the way for future
generations, so they may grow.
Knowing of no dreams for herself,
only this, an eternity of weaving.


Kathleen M. Kohl/Levinski