LIKE THE SWEETNESS OF GARDENIAS
Mother, you died 15 years ago.
I felt shards of pain so deep
I couldn't breathe,
the sun could not break the clouds.
Then there was just stillness
like the sweetness of gardenias
in the crystal vase
on your yellow kitchen table.
so fragrant, so strong.
Today the tradewinds blow your voice to my ear
a pleasant mantra
magic words that move my palms, your palms,
together we mold, help, create.
your gift has become my gift.
In the mirror I see your eyes,
your beautiful brown circles
looking back, so radiant.
"Don't forget me," you whispered
your heart stopped
I won't forget.