Mocking Bird
(For My Mother)


There is an mocking bird singing in my dogwood tree
Liquid beads of song trickling down the full May air
Filling my thoughts with its wet round sound
I note it's sweetness
Breathe it's song
Thumb through my mind for metaphors
And, as always,
Mark a thought to tell you of it

And if you go
Blooming dancing into some great white light
Moving intelligence into some further sphere
Hungrily, happily gleaning knowledge from books unopened here

Shall I know that you will wait for me there?
The always haven home of my heart?
Shall I someday walk into that light
Reaching forward for your hand?

Or will I just be here
All alone
Cradling a mockingbirds midnight song
That no one else will understand?

That no one else can understand


©Edwina Peterson Cross