My mother
She is a mysterious figure in my life;
Lately she comes and goes like the wind.
Although present in some tenses,
She is not.
I feel I barely know her at times.

But she has good intentions,
Which correspond with her warm heart.
For what other reason would she still be willing to argue for my causes –
to stand up to my father, the parent with whom I live.

How else but for these attributes,
These that define her so well,
Could she raise three children. And give up all her time.
To attend plays, recitals, and the practices in between,
the soccer games, the volleyball tournaments, and the cheerleading meets.

She has a pure heart, a forgiving spirit, and a voice
that can soothe the deepest wound, blunt the sharpest words.
And as if this is not enough
consoles my friends,
when their own moms cannot.

She ate plastic food, and conversed with bears,
She "cared for" my dolls and "wiped their tears"
Just as she did with me.
When I am sick
She still brings me soup, just as if I were five,
No meal could compare to hers,
The love which is found in each bite are in her dishes alone.

I realize now,
I do know you.
Even though we may drift apart, from time to time.
You are unchanging, my reliable constant,
You maintain the balance in my life.

Mom,
my irreplaceable companion,
Forgive me please, I am afraid I know you.
Better than I thought.
I am grateful for this calm.
But when will the winds shift again?