I asked Mum why it was so special but no reply every time, Not even a yes or no. She would only stare, let out a sigh and go back to the kitchen to tend to the boiling kettle, There was definitely something about the meadow.
It's always fun when I race around it chasing butterflies, But before it was sunset, Mother would call me in for dinner and I would have to say my goodbyes. As I left, my spirits low, I knew there had to be something about the meadow.
For the first time after my hundredth question about the meadow, Mother said it reminded her of a joy she once lost. Although she didn't elaborate and there was much I didn't know, I knew there was a lot inside that Mother fought and that made me just.
I began to see the meadow in a different light, And it made me wonder why it was just us two. Mother's answer gave me a new sight, For there is a man in a frame hung on the walls of our hallway and it isn't clear why, but I came to terms that Mother had a lot of explaining to do.
Mother finally spilled!
She told me the mystery about the meadow. Now I don't feel that much shallow. It was simply about how I lost the role model I could have had. The joy Mother lost, The emitted aura I felt from the meadow, Was the missingness of my dad.
So now I know. Now I know why there was something about the meadow.
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Poet's Note:
It's said that you can't miss someone you haven't met. That doesn't mean you can't have feelings for them. Some of us have probably lost someone dear in our lives. That doesn't stop us from continuing our lives. We can grief but we can never forget. Hold that dear one in your heart and move on.
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