Grown Children

 

Hear, where I lay,

eyes open, should be sleeping;

thinking of children gone, grown, but mist remains.

I got it wrong, I got it right, back and forth all through the night.

Stop this madness.

Nowhere it goes.

It is done.

Just watch and wait.

Open gate.

Open heart.

Open ears.

Open mind.

They are still, ever and always, mine.

– Mary-Jeanne Smith