The seamstress and the stars

“Come hither dear daughter”,
said the seamstress to her child,
“It’s been so long?
Is something wrong?
Do you care for me no more?”.

“Oh mother! mother! I care for you,
this very well you know;
but I just can’t take your constant clinging,
I have a life to live now of my own.”

“Is it something I’ve said?
Or something I’ve done?
I raised you you know,
you are mine!”

“you raised me perhaps”,
the daughter replied,
“but you were not there when I really needed,
my speech may be hot, and furiously worded,
but the anger is pain in my eyes”

“my child, could you say that again?
I missed what you said there.
Your auntie is coming over later,
won’t that be nice?
She’s bringing your uncle as well,
he’s almost recovered from the hip operation.
Did you remember to get me the mushrooms from the store.
On your way over?”

“Mother…” (said softly, sadly)

“Yes? do you have them the…”

But the daughter was gone,
only the stars looked on,
lighting the path she had taken to heaven.

In a moment of final clarity,
the chattering demons in abeyance.
For once.
She held up her hands and beseached: