Poetry

I often think of the days that I use to perch on your lap
And grab you around your neck
And kiss your aging cheeks.

I often wonder if I will ever be able to do that again.
The chasm between us seems to have become so relentless
That I often wonder if we’ll ever be able to cross it.

Mother, ma as I know you,
I sometimes think back to when we use to be
Best friends, I was the envy of my siblings
As you always had my back.
Now I look back and see the strays of memories
We have left behind.

I see you, you’re getting older.
You have a limp
And the 60 years that our Father has granted you
Is starting to show.

I remember watching you sit
At the window in our small flat
Writing down random numbers;
Maybe it was the dates of the births of all your children,
Even the ones you never saw growing up.
Or maybe how many times your heart was broken.
Or was it the number of times you cried?

Now you don’t count anymore,
You just stare ahead, waiting for the
End of each day.
Maybe the dates and numbers and opportunities
That you never had have all lost their meaning.

You turned into a sad and helpless creature
Right before my eyes
It made me feel sad and helpless for
Not knowing how to reach out.

Dear mother,
My arrogance and pride has prevented me
From coming to you and telling you
That I miss your bear-like embrace.
It has put a wall up in the
Middle of our home
As we pass one another
During the day
Like strangers at night.

We hardly say a word to another
And when we do, its
Laced with irritations and criticism.

Mother, I am sorry
For being too big for my shoes and
Forgetting that you too
Are leaving shoes that no one
Will ever be able to fill.