They span two generations, one continent,
Two nations but one culture despite dissent,
One is my mother, but both are my friend
I owe them more than I could ever lend
Each one has been a mother first
and foremost
But all along their life they marked the milepost
Mindful of their need to seek the innermost
Meaning, adventuring to the furthest outpost
The one reminds the other that her
journey's just
The very start to a pilgrimage she must trust
Maybe it's better to burn out than rust
Fight for freedom of the mind than just adjust
One is still dark of hair and one
is now white
Both retired from working where might was right
But not alright. Both await the coming night
Alive and vibrant and beautifully bright
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