Mama, don’t cry

Soft shadows glimmer upon my bedroom’s walls.
Under their spellbound, my heavy eyelids fall,
And as I slide into my dream of hazy clouds and nothing more,
You enter quietly the room and barely touch the floor.

Content and calm, you sit beside the bed.
I take your hand and gently rest my head.
Why are you crying, Mama? I told you, I am fine…because
Outside of these wild-blue gates, divine stillness is vast
For pain and distress remained beneath, in the uneven past.
 
Did you see God? - I asked just to ensure you are not merely a dream
With angels, fields, and mountains where sparkling waters stream.
My question makes you smile; you know I haven’t changed.
Did you see God? Your voice of crystal murmurs a soft, unknown tune:
I haven’t seen God’s face this afternoon.

And then, you stand.  With tender wave and simple grace,
Your hand touches my face.  I am at ease.  
Uplifted by the wind, I care not that time begins to disengage
Leaving my world in pieces alone to arrange.
 
As you depart, the auburn dawn reclaims the silent skies
The echo of your words brings down your replies:  
Mama, don’t cry and sadness don’t allow,
Just be at peace because God is my mother now!