Your life upon the loom, your heart upon the wind,
We wonder in awe, attending your life's tapestry.
The colors of your days and loves are the whole.
Memories woo hot tears that run down our cheeks.
Your sweet life poured out like water from a bowl,
Yet in love and in hope your days are not a vanity.
Though you are still, your light has not dimmed.
Mother.
Teaming crimson threads inweave your lavish love,
Your children, grands, all in your covering prayers,
Violet strings combine every stitch, in warp and weft,
As your faith formed you, then we, in this cloth of life.
Your sweet spirit in your last breath, through a cleft,
Loosed. Healed and whole you climbed celestial stairs,
Though in sorrow, you with Saints and Seraphs above.
Mom.
Board games, camping, and scrambled eggs,
Ginger bread and cream, chili con carne,
Cherry pie, lemon pie, apple pie, any pie,
Evenings of popcorn, and home movies.
Big warm hugs, but ripped off band-aids,
Lighting speed mid-air bee or wasp slicer.
Late night at the bedside tending a fever.
The green threads attest your heart was fully alive,
Robust as a tree and as fragile as a young bloom,
Your nurturing love ever soaking each life in prayer.
This space you've left, though wilted, still blossoms.
Your absence invites us to extend your love and care,
As we weave our lives from yours upon the loom,
With you, alive in God and in his Christ, will thrive
Mommy.
Your life upon the loom,
Your heart upon the wind,
So recently threadbare,
Now higher up and farther in,
Your tapestry complete.
Healed,
Whole,
Beloved.
