William Masonis Poet Free verse

For My Mom's 90th; Alternative

For My Mom's 90th (Alternative)
                                                              
                                                                      "Things"

When you hit your 90th, 
You Don't Want "Things"!

Age has its privileges,
Chief among them being
To opt out of any more
Of the endless affluvia
Of our lives;
That collect like snowdrifts
In all the cracks and corners
In commemoration 
Of our whims and triumphs,
Desires great and small
The walls of the ramshackle palaces
Of our memories.
That detritus that defines 
That we were here.

No. When you're looking at 
Near a century gone behind
Things, per se, no longer count for much.

No. One no longer cares
For whatever may be rapped
Upon the table'

As for what might be brought 
To the table;
Ah, that's another thing.

There are things made of smoke,
Born of life,
Free of form
Yet solid as diamonds:
Love, Passion, Hope, Experience
Desire, Despair, Ecstasy -
All the things that make each life a miracle.

YOU have given me all of these things,
Mom.
Because you had me.
You cast me into this;
You cast me into this Wonder;
We are as we are
Because someone brings us to the light.
This world of things made of sacred smoke;
For that I Thank You, Mom.
I Thank You.

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