On this Separation

Mother, now that we are separated by these large waters-

And by crackling fibre lines-

that sometimes transform your humming voice into unfamiliar muffles.

But Mother,

Now that we are separated-

I feel somehow unable.

You have never asked me to carry your burden

But suddenly

I feel heavy.

The weight of the unknown-

balances unsteadily above

me.

It is only now-

that I realize

I have been navigating this world through

you.

And Mother, I am ashamed to say-

that all this while

I secretly thought it was

you-

who had needed me most.

Never truly acknowledging

Your strength,

until now-

now that my own lack of-

mocks me,

and is hastily demanded to

stand

upright

alone.

Mother, we are now separated-

by these man-made borders.

But separated still-

by so much more,

that I cannot-

define.

 

Familiar

I’ve met you before.
Somewhere between the conversing streets of death and life,
we met behind a forgotten alleyway.
Discussing our dreams and failed attempts to climb the moon,
and define the way the sun shone across our souls.

I’ve met you before.
When I met that full outburst of laughter, I wept.
Feeling the waves of familiarity and comfort wash over me anew.
I could live and die many times over to hear that laughter.
SO full of life, pain and strength.

I’ve met you before.
Carrying your brokeness in a little tin jar.
And painting your portrait of pain so beautifully.
As I sit and contemplate,
Only now do I see the unshed tears under your heart.