You know what scares me, mother?
The length of your arms around me, the ones that held me when I was none
The intrepid response you have to the bickering call of life;
The words that you released to your foes with slashing swords falling on their retort
You know what kills me, mother?
When you wave farewell to your youth for mine;
your joy vicariously lived through my joys
When your response when I learned to respond were ellipses, mother.
You know what makes me angry, mother?
When our space is shared whilst we have the whole world in our hands
The days you live is for yours and the songs we kept singing through time
You know what’s left of me, mother?
Your reflection in my face that
has slowly moulded into mine
The legacy you bestowed as
you sang me to sleep
The feeling of your arms around
me while I walk in the streets
The sharp angst with the world
when we could do better
The heart that has no horizon
but beams from people to people
A tongue that calmly sits but a
spirit that prays because I cannot
speak enough in words
What is left