Heart To Heart
Mother, I feel the weight the spinning world.
I feel each parental nudge, as a rock, in the cairn of my life,
the weight coats my fragile fleeing thoughts, dulling.
The spinning child teeters to adult whirlwind, still, sloughing stale nudges.
Worlds appear and disappear within the turmoil of my roiling mind
feel each parental nudge declined,
as a rock standing firm against a gale of fright
in the cairn** of my life, I will reign.
Son, I know I ask too much, am too much, give too much, hold me.
I know, you know, I too spin, and teeter in the winter of my years.
I ask only that you see my love, in the absences, as we grow.
Too much of mewling mother has melded with you, I weep.
Am too much, and in being so, feel never enough.
Give too much of my own fear, though unintended, it bleeds.
Hold me close as my time is ending, and the rocks of my reign fall.
* This is my original form called Et Cetera a subcategory of Free Verse
**cairn is a pile of rocks made to blaze a trail
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