I Bring Her Flowers

I have had such difficulty touching pen to paper. Even with my growing sadness. Emotions reaching heights that fill my soul with despair. A despair in which I thought has left me. I now know it was just at rest. Sleeping beneath the cobwebs. Deep within waiting for a grand awakening. I know this despair forms from watching my Mother. I feel the pain, sense the confusion. Her mind is going. Her memories are all turning into shadows. With all my star wishes. With all the prayers I release into the air. I know someday she will be gone. I tell her how much I truly love her. I hold her dear to my heart. A tie that can never be broken. I look into those hazel eyes. A wondurous realization that took to long takes hold. She is the one who made me who I am. She did it all to make me strong. I visit her there in those depressive rooms, sit and hold her hand. I bring her flowers. Watch the childlike joy. As she touches the petals to her nose. My eyes well with tears I try to hide. I brush her cheek with a kiss. I confirm, I will return. I will continue to bring her flowers. Although, I know she will not remember me being there.