Claude Monet
A Gentle Woman
Some time during the night
The frayed tether broke
And she slipped away downstream
Far beyond the sound of my voice,
Far beyond the call to home.
Yet, in the silence of this night
I see her face in the silver moon
Light rippling on dancing water,
Diamond eyes, blinking fireflies,
Sorrow calls among long leaf pines.
My mother was a gentle woman.
She dreamed of peace and carried love
In her heart for family, friends,
All who would heed
And even those who would not.
My mother was a gentle woman.
She loved books and prayer,
Morning walks that led her path
To those who lacked for comfort –
She gave without regard of return.
My mother was a gentle woman
Whose spirit freely shared
Her homespun wisdom
Channeled through generations
Of women who knew how to cope
With whatever challenges
Life’s wayward winds might bring.
From these trials grew strength,
Determination, resilience, and still
My mother was a gentle woman.
Thank you, Mother, for teaching me
To be a gentle man.
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