This thing called LIFE.

This Thing Called Life

On this 21st day I was born

under a blackend October sky

in the witching hour of the night

while blazing reds and golds

stood like silent sentinals

over my mother's first child

which she beheld as a gift

her joy hued by jeweled tree's

and a sparkling burning hope

that her new baby girl would be

blessed with endurance and wit

she kissed my ebony wild hair

and in that spell she transferred

a lifetime of grace and strength

which I carry still, even in turbulence,

in remembrance of that fiery haired

woman who gave me

this thing called life 33 years ago.



Written in memory of the woman who gave me life, in honor of my birthday. For never is a woman more ALIVE then when she gives birth.