Riding the bike is

My mom called me in the middle of yesterday, saying she wrote a poem about riding her adult tricycle. It came to her in 15 minutes, and she wanted to read it to me over the phone. I was touched.
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Riding the bike is
(by M. Chahinian) 

Wind blowing the hair

Breathing the fresh air

Flowers everywhere

Trees planted along the way.

Exercising is the best

Going east and west

Stopping for some rest

And perhaps be the guest.

Happy people to greet

Chit chat and meet

Embrace the heat

Bid farewell and proceed.

It is a good way

To start the day

Continue till midday

Then call it a day.

The pleasures are endless

Always happiness

Joy and gladness

Knowledge in quietness.

Looking at the birds perched on the wires

Without any cares or fear of fires

Well protected and fed by their Supplier

He who is our Heavenly Father.

-----

Totally cute, right? 

Alice used to write poetry like this. Did my mom impact Alice's writing?Or did Alice influence my mom? 

Probably both.

Birthday dream

I had a dream about Alice last night. More like she appeared to me in a dream. There's a difference; the dream wasn't really about anything, except Alice's presence.
I'm not sure where I was when I saw Alice in front me, beaming her megawatt smile. She wore a rust colored loose sweater, typically chic. I couldn't believe I was with her, and I was so happy. I wondered if I was dreaming, yet it felt very real, so I dismissed the thought. All the pain of her absence disappeared when I ran up and hugged her. I picked her up like a baby, her legs dangling over my right arm, my left hand supporting her back. So blissful, I kissed her cheek again and again. We were both laughing and smiling. We didn't exchange any words.
We're away for L's spring break, and I went to a yoga class this morning. Toward the end, we put our fingertips on our foreheads and our thumbs at our jaws, covering our eyes in a meditative stance. We were supposed to clear our minds and breathe. But it felt like an opening for my sadness to enter, and I sat there on my mat, crying, trying not to make any noise.
Today's Alice's birthday, she would have turned 44. I miss her so much, and wonder what our relationship would have been like if she were alive.