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Her hands were forever moving, occupied with work
Leaving trails of memories across my heart
Whispering hope to my spirit
Silencing my worries and fears
Lighting the way for serenity
To color my thoughts in hues of lavender lace
Tracing out edges of truths
Surrounding me with inspiration
And beauty that comes from knowing
God is truly good!

Her housedress was always some flowery cotton
Drifting happily around her skinny knees
Raising questions about what would be for supper
Or breakfast or dessert?
Biscuits made from flour and lard, buttermilk
Dough so light and flavorful
It fills the mouth with sweetness
Of knowing her hands created them
The crusts flaky and filled with fresh joy
Love inspired by her heart

Her hair was always colored – until she was eighty
Then she went gray – snowy white, not silver
Leaving the dye behind her, in the salon
Where many would have told her, years ago
She could have been done with hair dye
But she was still vain in her heart
Despite the hard work that had faded her
Left her once smooth skin with creasing so deep
It left lines, even in her velvety touch
When she embraced me, which she didn’t do
Unless there was some harrowing experience to spark it

The embrace that failed to come
Because she was more than affection
She was a touch from God’s graceful breath
Sighing across my naked thoughts – warm
Because she knew the meaning of hope
The way to find inspiration and dreams
Through faith in His love for us
Love that lit her soul, glistened
In her light cerulean eyes
Always busy, she left me feeling cared for

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