Cycles of seasons complete themselves and the years unravel gracefully and sometimes not.Time is like ribbons spiraling away carrying with it souls that never came to be, and tears. A face only dreamed of, never kissed or known.
An angel of a baby girl I was never to hold...and Maya was her name. Maya was carried so gently away into the Cosmos, and Time like ribbons spiraling... I, some She Wolf howling to the stars with grief and tears , releasing her tiny soul yet guarding her shadow zealously as proof that I at one time harbored her...and Maya was her name.
I keep this sadness with love and protection in a secret place in my heart, for it is what remains. My Maya, November 22 1997.