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A Poem for my Grandmother
The love that you feed this
quietly humming place
allows every creature here
to thrive
I can feel it in the way you watch
the trees in their green ball gowns
dance
to an orchestra only the two of you can hear
I can feel it in the warm glow of your smile
when you watch that little one
you thought lost to the bitter winter months
begin to blossom and bloom
I can see it in the way you gaze
up at the drifting clouds
from the grassy earth
and forgive
the unforgiving sun
I can hear it in your adoring sigh
at the smallest of things:
a rabbit bounding through,
a bumblebee’s gentle buzzing song,
or perhaps the smudge of dirt
that my cheek refuses to release
I can feel it in the way
you always carry the aroma of
sunshine and carefully packaged
treasures to share
I can sense your deep love
of this vibrant, joyous place
when you sing back to the songbirds,
eyes bright and smiling,
without ever making a sound
I can see it through your contentment
to stand silently watching
as the stars and fireflies
become indistinguishable from the other
and when you lean
far over the trailing, laughing stream
to see if any of the silver fish are playing
in their city of green river grasses
or blaze a trail through the poison ivy ridden
jungle wedged behind the house
to tend to your struggling laurel
or when you keep the old butterfly wings
you find beneath the azalea,
saying that they are too beautiful
to be thrown away
and when you lie down to sleep
in the golden afternoon light
and the leaves dapple you with
a forest of greens and browns
I find that you are so much a part of this world,
and it so much a part of you,
that I can no longer define the boundary
between woman and nature
and I know that you are the magic
that brings this place to life
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