My Dearest Mother

When the sun casts its blackest shadows,
you guide me through the dark and act as the moon,
reflecting and reminding me of the light that the night clouds.
And for that I owe you my life.
You are my blind guide;the only constant in my life.
But my only constant starts to waver.
And as my life starts to emerge from the moss, yours begins to sink.
As I flourish you shrivel and as I gain and gain and gain,
you shrink and shrink and shrink.
And I fear the day when I am whole for this maladjusted correlation haunts my dreams and foreshadows a day when you are nothing.
Nothing but the essence of my success.
And that is when I must be your moon to show you the fire in your heart that once burned and pray that the heat will prevent your weak bones from withering.