To the parents.
Sometimes it is hard.
It is.
It just is.
Always remember the storms do pass.
Always remember the softness
and the sweetness,
the rose beyond the grey.
And we will grow them
perfectly
horribly
beautifully.
And all will be as it should.
All will be as it should.
I see you.
Tonight
I tear again.
The ache of a mother
remembering her ducklings, sweet.
It’s a long, long road to the deep end of a soul.
And some days ripple and crash
more than other days do.
The rain falls inside.
Tonight.
And then her name was Mum.
Just like that.
Happy Mothers day,
beautiful, Mum.
I see you.
And you are all the bits of magic.
Lots of love,
Brooke. xxx (Aka: Mum.)
