For Alma, my mom is gone.
Lightning pierced your heart.
broke the quiet of your nap
to take in just one hour,
the eternal dream home.
Life gave us a chance of peace in recent years.
shared reading was the mystery
respected our differences
and calm acceptance of our neighborhood. I said once
parimos us with pain,
and strong was the tear of living the mutual rejection.
Who knows what stories crossed that not wanting to explain
okay?
You hate or love almost always the closest.
But I began to embrace this mother internal
the left after you're gone,
which leaves me colors,
some more glowing,
and others like polished stones.
The story is not denied,
but if understood, leaving
the shared pain,
but without resentment.
Life put us on the cross only to declare
powerless.
Could it have been otherwise?
I do not know ... maybe ... does it matter?
do not we? Are not wanted?
I is the bottom line, I opened
to live as father court,
with what I could and I can,
with what ever I can. What
heat that I can not find in your body cool?
What about the bed in which a child looked odors and field?
When you go near one foreign to their grievances.
I take my child alone,
but inside, deep inside,
almost the soul finds
mother's arms was
and could not be.
To declare without doubt:
rest in peace.
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