Trudy Garman

Santa Rosa, California, USA

Metamorphosis

IT WAS:
A time of innocence, my Son;
Another Chapter had begun.
Life's Book contained empty pages,
No definitive images.
We each author our own story
Which then becomes our history. Some find solace in morning dew;
I found my joy in having you.
I felt your pains; I shared your tears;
I tried to allay all your fears.
But, most of all, I loved your smile -
Sweet song of youth, without beguile. I knew I had to let you go
So you could reap; so you could sow . . .
Time for the Bird to leave the Nest . . .
I loved; I tried; I did my best
To let you choose the sites you'd see,
Know who and what you wished to be. IT COULD HAVE BEEN:
Born out of Love, a bond - a tie
That would not let the time go by
Without remembering the Trip -
The true meaning of Love, Friendship . . .
To be there with a helping hand,
Unconditionally understand,
To share, rejoice in Life's Journey . . .
That's what I felt it all should be: A Spiritual uplifting
Of such Majestic Magnitude
That we could hear the Angels Sing! IT IS:
Hard to see your child grow, move on,
Hard to accept when he is gone;
Hard to realize that Yesterday
Is but a memory today.
Inevitably I await . . .
Know Metamorphosis is Fate. But wish that WHAT WAS
COULD NOT HAVE BEEN
NOT AS IT IS.
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