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About me

Introduction	This site is a tribute to my mother, whose spirituality, strength and character radiate throughout every verse of the poetry she left behind. Mom grew up on a farm in Minnesota and learned early in life a deep appreciation for nature, spiritual values and hard work. We, her five sons and four daughters, grew up and strove always to live out our lives with her appreciation for nature, her commitment to hard work and her deep sense of the spiritual. As the author Joie Davidow said, "No matter how we struggle to be wholly separate, no matter how far we plant ourslves, we are destined to exist in relation to our mothers, to the very source of our lives. Our achivements are their achievements. Our failures are their failures. Our dreams are only variations of those our mothers dreamed for us...we live our lives forever in the shadow of theirs." As a tribute to mom's spirit, I've organized the poems she left behind, poems often scratched out on scraps of paper and the backs of cereal boxes, and written my own commentaries on them. Louis Markert, fifth son, eighth born, forever grateful.

Introduction

This site is a tribute to my mother, whose spirituality, strength and character radiate throughout every verse of the poetry she left behind. Mom grew up on a farm in Minnesota and learned early in life a deep appreciation for nature, spiritual values and hard work. We, her five sons and four daughters, grew up and strove always to live out our lives with her appreciation for nature, her commitment to hard work and her deep sense of the spiritual. As the author Joie Davidow said, "No matter how we struggle to be wholly separate, no matter how far we plant ourslves, we are destined to exist in relation to our mothers, to the very source of our lives. Our achivements are their achievements. Our failures are their failures. Our dreams are only variations of those our mothers dreamed for us...we live our lives forever in the shadow of theirs." As a tribute to mom's spirit, I've organized the poems she left behind, poems often scratched out on scraps of paper and the backs of cereal boxes, and written my own commentaries on them. Louis Markert, fifth son, eighth born, forever grateful.