I just have to post these three lines here, because they are so moving — even haunting — to me. The entire piece is a treat of images and metaphors that radiate with a daughter’s love for her mother.
She was the daughter of broken hearts and the mother of unbroken daughters.
She was a dream I had as a child that took me decades to wake up from.
She was an emerald, brilliant, flawed, a tragic mess of perfection.–La Peregrina, Santiago Dreaming: Writing Love Letters in the Sand
That was a nice surprise. 🙂 My sisters and I were amazed by how our poems turned out. I am positive our mother was there to help us express our feelings about her.