Visiting My Mother in my Mind in her 88th Year by William McIlvanney

I do not know the thoughts that come,
Companions to your aging,
Whether your heart with grief is numb
Or whether it is raging.

I wonder in your lonely nights
What old times choose to call.
Are they ghosts of past delights?
Are they remembered gall?

And do you doubt, there in the dark,
The meaning of your living -
If it has been a wasted work,
An unrequited giving?

Listen: I have come here to say
Let all your thoughts have ease.
You’ve been in winter a warm day,
In choking heat cool breeze.

You’ve been an island in a sea,
After wild waters shore.
You’ve been a lesson how to be.
And no-one has been more.