Heaven-to Mothers

If there are any heavens my mother will (all by herself) have one. It will not be a pansy heaven or a fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley but it will be a heaven of blackred roses my father will be (deep like a rose tall like a rose) standing near my swaying over her (silent) with eyes which are really petals and see nothing with the face of a poet really which is a flower and not a face with hands which whisper-this is my beloved my (suddenly in sunlight he will bow, and the whole garden will bow) e.e. cummings