Singing Wind

In memory of my Mother,

Yvonne Reynolds Tinney

1931-1995

Walking alone and thinking too hard

when the wind started singing your song.

It was singing with love, like an angel above,

silently singing your song.

Your voice was like a mourning dove

Lost in driving rain.

Making me feel so many things,

hearing the song of your pain.

Sounding as near

As a whisper to me,

the look in your eyes

made me see.

Suddenly blinded by vision,

The life you were singing about.

Of good life and hard times and

reasons some things don't work out.

You sang what your eyes were revealing,

I could see they were so filled with tears.

A fountain of love overflowing,

looking back through all those years.

I saw you standing there searching

A sunrise of deep blue and gold,

for someone to reach out with kindness,

and kiss away all of the cold.

I'm sure that's what made your hands gentle,

the most loving touch that can be.

Their message is clearer than ever,

inspiring compassion in me.

It seems that time stands still,

and the clocks can't seem to turn.

Holding me gently in Mother's arms,

something for which I still yearn.

And when memories rolled in

on goosebumps to your skin,

You shielded us closer

from your pain within.

You made me feel as tall as a mountain.

As strong as an old oak tree.

At least as brave as a tiger,

And gentle as kittens can be.

With your help

I feel I can do anything.

That's a gift more precious

than family ring.

When I hear the wind sing,

Something in my heart flies

on your wings,

like a bird in the sky.

You showed me days bright and sunny,

and chased all my troubles away.

Turned the thorns of your life

into sweet dreams for me.

These days I look for you often,

in sunset, flowers and wind.

I can feel you touching my shoulder,

bringing me comfort again.

Then the breeze came up softly,

kissed the side of my cheek.

The way that you touch me,

standing just out of reach.

When I lift up my eyes

to the tear filled night skies

I can see that the starlight

shines just like your eyes.

Copyright 1995, Dean Tinney