The mountain carries
the water, carries
the boat, carries
the man who thinks
he navigates the world
alone.
Thank you God for carrying my mama, who carried me. I feel you there underneath it all.
~
Art & Poetry
Art & Poetry
The mountain carries
the water, carries
the boat, carries
the man who thinks
he navigates the world
alone.
Thank you God for carrying my mama, who carried me. I feel you there underneath it all.
This post brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing, and blessings to you in Kenya!
That’s: Love back to you, Deac!
Five years your mama gone. Wow. No mama’s are never gone. Adjusting to finding them inside is ever a leap.
Love back to your Deac.
This has been a rough Mother’s Day. Don’t know why. Something magical about the number five (as in years)? Grief is a strange creature, appearing at the most surprising times. So often, now, a shadow that flits at the edge of vision. Then suddenly night engulfs the heart. So thank you, Goat for this balm of light.
Love, Deac
Yeah, me too. As essential and irreplaceable as breath. Momma.