Found a little bird at sunrise today
And I saw you, Mother, in a mythical way
So young, vibrant and full of life
Just few short months before you left
Us children, by cancer’s theft.
The little bird sang a beautiful song
And I heard your voice, no longer so strong
“My children, I love you”
That was your last Mother’s Day
The next morning took you away.
The little bird looked right at me
And I felt you, Mother, warm esprit
I told you we grew up missing you
But made it through life, somehow
You are a great grandma now.
The little bird took in the morning’s calm
And I sensed you around, a soothing balm
My eyes welled up with gratitude
I picked a flower thinking of you
And the little bird flew its way too.
Epilogue: I was working on the third verse of this poem when a small bird came to sit on the lounger just outside the glass doors to my office. It was just like the bird I saw in the park at sunrise. It looked straight into the room. Then it flew to the glass door itself, hung onto the vertical glass surface with its little feet for a few seconds, and looked in again before it flew away. Quite magical.
Happy Mother’s Day to all mothers!