INTUITIONS

Intuitions have rivers that ripple through time. I am a mother’s daughter. My dreams have many openings in the skimming moments of expanding oceans. I sail on a ship now and I am led to her.

Intuitions have rivers that ripple through time. I channel through the waves. I see my mother’s past in the reflective waters of the high tide. She is a young child again, drinking in the white light of faith, and I hear her laughing.

Intuitions have rivers that ripple through time. I hold the pebble she has given me. The stone is old and her hands are quickly losing strength. She is an old lady that is dancing in the passageway of life and death.

Intuitions have rivers that ripple through time. My 87-year old mother’s mom stands on the dock of the sea with open arms. I see it, when my grandmother smiles at her aging daughter, as the ever sweet wind blows in the dancing airs of love.

Intuitions have rivers that ripple through time. I release the pebble as the sand pours through my fingers and I trust my mother in the care of the angels that have come for her.

Intuitions have rivers that ripple through time. Our fingertips touch as she is saying goodbye to me. I am not ready to let go.

Intuitions have rivers that ripple through time. She looks in my eyes and says, “I love you.” She knows that heaven is ready for her now and she leaves.

Intuitions have rivers that ripple through time. She goes away and she’s gone to heaven. Another year passes and I know she is happy with her beloved husband.

Intuitions have rivers that ripple through time. I release my mother to my dad as I

walk on the shores of memories, holding the seashells.