My mother

The leaves blow.
As the winds push against our skulls.
Leaving nothing but an invisible kiss on my bones.
Hugs from the trunk of a tree.
Food from the crops that grow beneath.
Eating meals as the sounds of animals echo through my lobes.
While the warmth of the sun goes down, letting me know its time to sleep.
Knowing it was her taking care of me and giving me signs.
It was my mother that lived and guided me all this time.