My heart is full. Twenty years ago, you made me a mother. The years have flown by with bewildering speed, and they've inched forward, too, agonizing for both of us. Always, though, you, with grace. How blessed am I. How blessed are thee. A mermaid swimming out of me and away, a flicker of tail, swish.
The Cloths of Heaven
HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
William Butler Yeats