To the prodigal and lost

To the lost and prodigal sons
A Mother’s regrets are few
Except for all the things she said
And the way they tumbled out like water tearing rocks in spring
And all the things she should have said
but didn’t
and a thousand chances she couldn’t give you
the things she only learned much later,
and all the things she knew.But love never says “I told you so,”
Love lays at the bottom soft safety net if you land
And whispers prayers of safe descent
Longing for that lost lullaby country
Beyond the rainbow, beyond the tears and shouts and rain
Where destruction does not wear the mask of pleasure
And happiness is not buttoned up in pain.