Calm is the mother of all sensations.
She adds sense to the chaos of the family.
Her actions are like an eagle soaring through the sky,
Practiced and serene.
Her eyes are clear puddles showing her mind
Saying “I love you”.
She is the steam that scrolls into the cool air from the tea cup.
Calms happiness is like the purr of cat on quilted blanket.
Her body dressed in clothes sewn from clouds that drifted down from the sky.
She takes the sky and spins it into thread to sew the clouds together.
Her hair is woven from drought ending rain drops that stain the cheeks of her child sorrow.
Her eyelashes are rays caught from the sun that flow from her son delights head.
She is always there watching and helping all.
She goes unnoticed by the people, always blending in.
Her heart beats to the rhythm of song birds on the branches of young trees.
When calm falls all hell breaks loose,
And when she stands everyone is back in place.
Her skin is the fragile color of long forgotten books pages.
With the breezes the color changes from one pastel to the next.
Her thoughts drop into her mind like the sunset colored leaves from crisp autumn trees.
Not as bright as the sun,
But not cool like the night.
She is serine,
She is tranquil,
She is calm.