Friday, February 10, 2006

From a daughter. By Anonomous

So much of my life is lost in fog
Remembrance is a commodity, like rare spun silk
That I long to touch
I remember instead the feeling of silk,
the taste of things she baked me
And the way I always wanted her approval, the warmth of her eyes that
Could fill a soul, could make sure you knew
That no matter what, you were still beloved.
She speaks to me now as one woman to another,
Her words are languid, she takes her time,
She enjoys the exchange
We share like a fine meal.
We take our time, my mother and I
We luxuriate in the peace between us,
The lack of strife and longing at our table
That has made us the best of companions.

She remembers details and I just the sensations.
She remembers standing in that group of strangers
And speaking her heart, speaking her fear, her
Faith, her love and her hopes for us all.
I remember no words, only that I stood beside her more proud than I
have ever felt since,
And marveled that I came from her body,
That aside from all the things this woman before me was, she was also
a Creator of life.

She speaks to me now and I listen.
She aches and I feel dull numbing pain also.
She laughs and I rejoice silently,
She asks and I answer with all my heart.
This is the love without conditions that makes each breath I pass
sublime,
The secret elixir of life that allows my body to continue to move
Through days of confusion and learning,
Bringing me closer to her, and more understanding
Of her life with each morning I awake.


Anon.