A Mother’s Hand
You never bury the dead, an old saying goes
For the dead stays around now and everlasting
Their memories kept alive with song and prose
It’s a human trait; we keep on remembering
She’s departed now, gone beyond the outer limit
To another universe he can’t see nor touch
But her scent stays and he can sense her spirit
In his heart he feels her and misses her so much
Many times he’s alone he beckons her to visit
To talk and give him advice like she always did
To hear her voice if only for a minute
Tell her how much he loves her in word and deed
But it’s only in dreams that he sees her
The nights he’s broken and needs a mother’s hand
He’ll write lines and verses so all will remember
Her memory will live on in every grain of sand
07-01-2014
© F Aparici
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