My Alice

My mom called yesterday morning, her voice shaking. She had written a poem, and said "it just came to me, so I wrote it down." Here it is.
-----
My Alice

You are a bundle of energy
A bundle of love
You are my angel
Watching from above.

Emptying the dishwashwer
Or filling it up
Cleaning the oven
Wiping the countertop.

At a moment's notice
She would vacuum the house
At the next moment
She would cut the grass.

Always asking and almost begging
If she could only wash up the cars
Then quickly would add, if she could
Weed the garden and water the grass.

And now that you are gone
And left me behind
I will do all these things
And keep you in my heart and mind.

I love you Alice and miss you allways
Feeling you next to me on the swing
In the morning sunrays.
-----
This poem is totally Alice, in the rhyming, the structure of the verses, the imagery.

My mom remarked that she doesn't completely understand the significance of the change in pronoun, from second person to third person and back to second. She wondered if she should make it uniform, and I offered that if this is how the poem came to her, this is how she might keep it.

I added that it was clear that my mom was open, she was listening to the universe with her eyes, ears, and heart, and that these are ways that Alice lives through us.