Mother's Day
For motherhood is an allness, primal and rooted in mystery.
She held her son in her lap like the day he was born. Golden haired and blue eyed. The child of promise who heralded the new beginning for her, for her husband. So many years lost to sadness until he arrived in trilling sunrise joy. Today was Mother’s Day.
Her weathered hands, like those of her mother’s, tremble over the surface of him for motherhood is an allness, primal and rooted in mystery.
“I wish I was more,” she whispers and places the urn back upon the mantle and tends to her supper.
About the Creator
Kevin Rolly
Artist working in Los Angeles who creates images from photos, oil paint and gunpowder.
He is writing a novel about the suicide of his brother.
http://www.kevissimo.com/
FB: https://www.facebook.com/Kevissimo/
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Comments (2)
Oh my goodness, that ending. So sad.
Gosh, I wasn't expecting that! Very emotional!