Mothers and Sons

The candlelight on the altar
flickered its firelight onto 
the paper white petals of the lilies.

Below she lay also bride white.
Such pureness belying human frailty.
Outside the old country chapel
The snow fell in increasing silent layers
It was as though the whole of her world
Had taken on a state of grace

Even the age lines earned from 
A life well lived on the land
Raising her six children
Now smoothed as her beauty resumed.
I lean forward to her face for the last time
Stopping to absorb my last look of her
Deep inside my memory finding
The part that would never forget her.

I am a little boy once more
Remembering her face so beautiful to me
I want  to feel her kiss as she tucks me into bed
Always so safe and loving and warm

The little church is hot the steam clanking
Into its old radiators
But my lips touch hers softly
They are like the snow outside
Cold and lifeless

My fingers touch her loved cheek lightly
And I feel a tear falling into her casket
Taking my sorrow with her in death
As she always did in life
I turn and leave the church
The snow crystals crunching
Under my shoes.
At the door I bow my head
And whisper
Rest well
I love you mom.