A Prism

Grandmother

The wind sings her name

a melody I hold in my core

she is love eternal

not even the shadows of death

can remove

she flows around and through my soul

The winds are whispering now

perhaps listening to her wish that they will let me rest

she everlasting compassion

never knowing the process of self concern

My heart is deeply burning with an intensity

only the Suns will understand

My passion-flame is aimed at granting her wishes for my existence

The realization of my mark upon this space

to be her every dreams for me walking in reality

to be all that she witnessed with those eyes like microscopes

I was glass or crystal and she peered into my center

recognizing I’d love her eternal

A prism of eternal love

also known as

grandmother

Written while listening to this:

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