My Mother’s Hands
My mother’s hands
My Fathers fine hair
My sister’s love of adventure
I say’ I love you’ easily
Because you said it without censure
I fight for every underdog
Because of all you bullies
I find beauty in a stone
Because you showed me truly
All my sobs and tears
Because he taught me how to cry
I saw how much I hurt you
And so it hurts to lie
Beautiful mosaics we are
- more beautiful with age
As patterns grow more intricate
And colours start to fade
I look around at those who’ve gone
And find they are still here
In the mirror, in my heart
Every action brings them near.