deepundergroundpoetry.com

Mother-Wound

I.
 
I have been blessed  
with time
but find it difficult  
to believe  
I have been alive  
double-over the years  
my mother lived
 
We were not close
before she gave up the ghost
and having matured  
through deep introspection  
I came to know the whys
of the mother-wound
 
She was only 14  
when she married
my father, who was 16—
normal for that period of time  
 
Their love story was great  
and lasted 20 years
ending the year  
my father retired
their dreams sinking
six feet under
 
I didn't talk or think  
about my mother much
with the exception  
of harboring regret  
that I wasn't older
or at least outgrown  
my rebelliousness  
 
Nor that I possessed  
the knowledge  
of shadow work  
while she still breathed  
 
When I would see friends
with their mothers
retired with grace and age  
I felt pained—
  my mother-wound triggered
and wondered
if given a chance  
 she and I  
 would've been friends
 
II.
 
I dreamt of my father  
immediately  
after he left this earth  
 
He was reading a paper
and eating an apple
like he always did  
 
He turned the paper around
and grinned at me
like he always did
and pointed to a headline
that said,
 
“I leave all my choices
up to God”  
 
It’s the first time
I had seen his face  
at peace
since my mother’s illness
 
But I never dreamt  
of my mother  
until recently—
 45 years after her death
 
We were sitting on my sofa  
she was looking around
taking everything in
like it was the first time
she had visited me
 
It was early spring  
and my door was open  
while we talked  
about everything  
 
She seemed confused  
when I asked  
how she was here
  being she had died  
  decades ago
 
She answered,  
"But I'm not gone
“I'm here with you"  
 
We burst out laughing  
long and loud and hard
over how silly the idea
of separation had become  
 
Just like we were the oldest
and dearest of friends
catching up  
after so much time
 
III.
 
I woke, comforted  
knowing my mother-wound
had finally closed
 
IV.
 
I saw a friend today
her mother on her arm
I felt no pain
only joy for them both
Written by Ahavati (Tams)
Published
Author's Note
As the bird to the branch when it's ready, as the teacher to the pupil, so comes healing.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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