Cul-de-sac moon of a mother’s love
shines on the silent sun, counting pearls in
Sun shines soul’s abundance
as the moon swallows riverbanks,
spilling into night.
Fingers touch, healing wounds, scars lift
from vision, smiles form peace,
faces reveal skylines —
bust the horizon.
Aerial seas float paper boats;
alabaster winters wave-kiss
pages – unfound embedded,
this child’s life.
Where alchemist fire melds spiritual
metal, pride-heart dies silver
on desert sand, or a carousel
riding on godbent tranquillity
suspended forever in wishes from stars.
There is no sorry in visual sensation, no
wrong walkways through rootless trees,
Mother’s cul-de-sac yields begotten;
dance hope fades in willowed song.