My Mother Did Not Speak to Me of Such Things
by Steven McCabe
When I was young and my mother even younger in the history of the world I stood one day looking at the rain outside the window and on the window.
And my mother did not speak to me of rain upon the sculptures at the Hoysaleshvara temple in Halebedu, Karnataka, SW India, carved in the 1200s of the common era. No. She said farmers need the rain.
And my mother did not speak to me of astronauts or ancient astronauts or vimanas sailing through rain and cloud. No. She said farmers need the rain.
And I believed her. I had no reason to not believe my mother speaking of rain.
poemimage 
You had me at “When I was young and my mother even younger… ,” Steve.
And what a beautiful image!
Thank you Elana.
As a mother, I so relate to this. We want our children to know the magic and mystery of life and we speak to them of farmers and thirsty flowers and rain. Yet, some of them find it for themselves anyway if they dare to look within.
Thank you Jeanie. Your comment sparks a thought that my mother maybe have actually been, in her motherly way, speaking of such things as temples and the moon and space travelers without mentioning such esoteric matters. If I’d given this post a bit more thought I might have come to that realization. Thank you.
As a mother and now grand mother I also love this image…smiles Hedy
Farmers always need the rain but this goes so much deeper…
Thank you John. Sometimes later we wonder what what delivered to us it seems.