Mama Speaks

It's been weeks since I have had a dialogue with Mama. I was so happy last night when she stepped back in to talk to me.

Mama and I are sitting on the rough wooden steps of the porch outside her cabin. She hands me a flower and tells me Dat a rose. I tell her 'No, it's a daffodil'. She laughs and tells me Dat right chile. Iss a daffadill. Jus cuz we call sumpin one ting don make it dat ting. It kno' iss a daffadill. Us namin it a rose don change dat. Don hurt de flowa none t be call a rose. Waste our time do lookin fer thorn where der ain none. She gives me a penetrating stare. I know I am supposed to see something here, but it escapes me. She puts her hand on my chest. What dat? My heart I answer. She raises her eyebrows as if I have missed the obvious once again. Dat right der, dat love chile. Pure n simple. My heart explodes outward under her palm. Warms and opens beneath her hand. It feels wonderful. Yo ken calls dat frienship, 'fection, sex. Yo calls it mos anyting yo want but fer you, it still be love chile.

I see the truth of her words in her earth-wise eyes. Smile because I get what she is trying to tell me. It seems so clear. So approachable here sitting in the sun with her. The question is can I be this thing she has asked? Can I stop looking for thorns and simply bloom love like I am called to do? Can I do that even when I DO get shredded by the thorns? I KNOW I can do it sitting there with Mama. I am much less sure now that I am back here in the wintery snow.