Growth
Jan 4, 2024
Do you remember
when the garden was quiet in
December
do you recall the frigid air
do you recall the fig tree
bare.
I remember that hostile room
my father’s ashen face
waiting one last time
for his daughter’s embrace,
at his deathbed to
show grace.
In this world I know
bodies decompose to dust
spring turns to winter
young grow old
caterpillar turns to a butterfly
tadpole turns to a frog.
Can I transform in my lifetime
can I grow in kindness
can I grow in patience
can I grow in love
can I grow better
to be a mother and a friend.
And upon my deathbed
can I smile broader
knowing I grew better
for my son and my daughter
and in turn for their
sons and daughters.
