The Sands of the Times go down,
Pressed by the winds of Space,
And in the wild, crazy race,
Still is alive the face
Of the Lady.
Never lazy,
the thought,
From the eternity brought,
Many a time had been fought
for the Mother.
I wouldn't bother
the memory,
Words, the gestures of hands:
Daring silhouette stands,
Just recollecting the right,
The beauty of day,
The calmness of voice,
The Starlight of eyes, -
Never expiring life,
Striving for love and for kindness,
Ever protecting the sons,
'thought tiredness.
Ivan Petryshyn Written on 11/28/06, Chicago