enduring influence
Nothing is instant, not even light. Stars that burned out eons ago still guide sailors and foretell fortunes. Some ancient outposts may be beacons to civilizations, themselves stardust, yet their memory is in our moments.
My mother ( gone, not forgotten ) speaks visibly with a silent voice in my values, expectations, outlook. As alive as her influence on my life and the lives of those I touch, mom is as alive as the night sky.
( My mother speaks iambic beats. The lub-dub of her heart. That first measure of another now source my rhythmic arts. )
