I recognized the light From the plane's window Flying to say "goodbye mother..." with flowers in a pot Warm geranium and gardenia Over San Fransisco I wondered if she knew My plight for water A son must Place the rocks on end And carve words Out of love and numbers To gods and heroes Seasons, like underwater symbols flashing in the presence of shadow, and stretched reason The year continues As does the growth of this silence, and the unspoken bursts Of us late bloomers In restless descent.