We walked together, you and I,
close by were your mother
and your mother-in-law.
Well, I walked and carried you
here in my heart. You are never far
from the first beat you felt
of a heart so faint and labored,
now older and drawn to this place
where your lives met their terminus.
Your mortal life had come to rest,
in the shade of gigantic poplar trees.
And I hit my knees in prayer for your soul;
the eternal life that began here as well.
Here with your parents who guided you
through the earliest recollections of truth
and faith. Here with your husband; the father
who had joined you after a long exile. I smile.
A length of paces removed from the parents
that had given him their names and their heritage.
Names emblazoned in marble; a monument to
your mortality, and in reality just markers
from where your new journey began.
Written in stone: Irene Wojtanik,
Bertha Kura, Lottie Wojtanik.
Together again for eternity
from this day, Mothers loved
and blessed at the behest of this heart
that sprang from all three. From me
to you, Happy Mother’s Day.