The honeyed morn, that you were born
was bright and joyous, rent and torn.
I saw Ginkgo’s glimmer gold.
I saw eyeballs morphing cold.
And there you lay all soft and curled
your scrunchy face was my whole world.
All winter through, I heard you coo
your eyes met mine and then I knew. . .
home is you and me.
I saw snowflakes sailing high.
I saw mourners heaving cry.
And there you nursed all nestled in
I dipped my nose and sniffed your skin.
In springtime drip, I watched you flip
my heart began to toss and skip.
There was sparkling diamond grass.
There was oozing poison gas.
And there you rolled and rolled away
the time had come; we could not stay.
As long as I am here with you
no matter where we’re going to. . .
home is you and me.
I held your hand; I helped you walk
while knowing bout the ticking clock.
I saw Graylings launch release.
I saw gunmen rob our peace.
You sought and reached up high so tall
sticky handprints on the wall.
This world is full of love and loss.
Where strength and fright sometimes crisscross.
Where we’ll go, we do not know
through tangled storms and winds that blow. . .
but home is you and me.
We had to make a flurried dash
where salty whitecaps splash and crash.
We rocked all night; it was not planned.
Upon a boat we hoped would land.
Goodbye nest, goodbye story
goodbye times, both warm and gory.
So here we are too strange for there
too strange for here; too tired to care.
But knowing as I hold your hand
we have a home without a land.
Cause home is you and me.
How do I thank a mother who gave
me a life she desperately wanted for herself.
