When I think of what you have given me,
I remember your spontaneous, guileless smile,
Trying to connect with me;
Your effervescent, sensuous voice,
Curling around me like soft curvaceous arms.
I feel pulled by your solicitous maternal concerns:
Your innocent little inquiries about my health and happiness.
The deep innocence of your love sometimes startles me,
My love for you may be the purest connection I have with the world.
Tomorrow I don’t know, but what you have given me seems everlasting,
Small motifs of a vast tapestry,
World has its rules but love works by its own light.
Suffern, New York, April 30, 2012; Rev: 6.24.15