What Passes Poem by Dianne Feaver

Now come days of uncertainty,
when recalling yesterday
brings some comfort, yes, but all too brief.
The time has come when a family
is no more than a trembling leaf,
the ones I raised now blown beyond my reach.

Who could contain their restlessness,
or blame such youthful vigor?
I had taught them fearlessness.
To go barefoot in the marsh
where dragonflies mated on the wing.
I fed them stones from such mossy places,
still they flew... somewhere.

These days of wading into waterlilies
may have to be enough,
searching tangled reeds
may have to be enough,
I am a woman waiting,
I will the stars to shift,
I am a woman plaiting wild lotus in her ha