She Said

They asked me to come out and play
But mother said I might get hurt
One hot and blinding summer
she said, "Try to swim, and you'll drown."
When I tried to be a child
She treated me like an adult
When I tried to be grown up
She said I was presumptuous

A cold and bitter winter day
Life left her and she went away
The hospital smelled horrible
and I was left alone
And I worried
Never walking, always hurried
I guess the thing I wanted most
was to catch up with her ghost

Gradually, life unfolded before my young eyes
I couldn't see the sun
She and I had launched so many clouds
So many of the layers saturated
with sadness, pain and fear
Things I thought she'd given me
Slid right out of my grasp
Haphazardly thrown to the wind
Never to be used again

My frosty interior
made me feel inferior
I found I had to say
she'd helped make me that way
I had to learn to understand
I didn't have to be so cold
That maybe she was frightened, too
and did the best that she could do

We have to learn to sculpt ourselves
To carve something beautiful out of the remnants of life
Leave behind unhealthy wood
Exposing a strong and polished core
I had never done this before
I was almost blinded by the illuminated beauty of myself

I had to look inside
and touch the brilliant fire
To lift my head and wipe my eyes
to find that life is luminous
When beauty is tapped lovingly
it truly is voluminous

So I guess I never knew her
She never let the light shine through her
And she chose to keep it off
Or never learned to turn it on
She must have been so sad, and scared
Her lonely life was never shared

I wrote this for my mom
because she spent her life alone
And she was simply so afraid
that she never, ever shone
But I promise her, each day I live
I'll try to shine, and to forgive.