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Smiles of the Moon
(To explain as to why I wrote this poem, is a strange task, as I'm not sure if this is something unique to me in comparison to the average person. When I was young, certainly before puberty, I remember talking to my mom, and I found it odd. I'd never any recollection of my grandparents. Any of them. I asked my mother about her mother, and she told me that her mother died at the age of 41, when she was only 18(1973). When she told me that, I was alarmed, because she said she died of a heart attack. Being a naturally occurring means of death, I thought that meant 41 was by that logic, an average life expectancy. My mother was 34 when I was born, which would've made her probably 44 at that this time I reckon. Ever since then, I've had this feeling of I guess you could say, underlying paranoia of her impending passing. Very underlying and occasional mind you, not frantically fearing at every bend and turn. Well my mother's had symptoms, and what seems to be very strong signs that she's had a number of mini-strokes over the last, possibly a few years now, that I didn't come to realize until about a year and a half ago, when I learned of her most recent one, being severe enough that she had to call 9-1-1. Well I am happy to say, that she's been as far as my siblings and I can tell, or have expressed to each other, not showing any symptoms, and hasn't had any sort of incidents. I've thought of what I would do, were I to express my self at any sense or sort of memorial service for and of her. I realized, the only way I could so much as express a sliver of my mother's importance in my life, it would have to be the only way I know how. Poetry. And so I took the time to write that of which I've written here. Thanks for reading. =]
--Smiles of the Moon--
Mother never was, an angel or a saint
Nor her heart corrupted, by some dark and vile taint
But, mother was, a goddess of a kind,
Creating and shaping, the workings of my mind
She caressed my spirits, with her kissings of my soul
Pioneer of travel, on the journ' to find my whole
To her I pay tribute, honor in the most,
For, in my welcome, she played an honored host
Watching through my windows, gateways to my soul
Thus then did I know; what was free from my control
Beckoned by her hand, guidance not command
Nurtured would I be, as I sailed tumultuous sea
Glimmering Christmas tinsel; her joy of times past
Angels' songs and smiles; loves she held steadfast
She held dreams and sought; heaven everquest
To which I wish her; a most well-earned divine rest
I may not, cherish; the same things as she,
But I learned, not to let, hate relinquished free
Words and their, meanings, she oft' helped me learn
Were, memories entities, I'd hold all`f these in urn
So I look not to, her absence with much gloom,
I relish all her smoke did; dancing in brief plume
In the cosmic sense of time, I would join her soon,
But for now, I'll reflect, with the smiles of the moon
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