to the woman who raised me

my dear mom, 

you have held my hand, walked me

to the edge of everthing I've hoped for--

Possibility that  has  no  horizon,   just      vast       Maybe.

looking behind us, I see

how we walked and the shapes of our footsteps

and the lengths of our Strides changed.

having walked through the times of barren sand

and the verdant pasture times, those days have ceased to exist--

many in Memory, all in Time. 

and as the future is not (and may not always hold the memory

of this Journey)

Let us now stand here in the only moment that is, and I'll say thank you for this place where we have come. 

The journey has grown us Beautiful Together. 

love, 

your indebted daughter