Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Joy Leftow
MY MOTHER
My mother is an artist
She designs embroidery
- a dying art - and creates
any design she desires
her hands instruments
of a higher force
She explains to me
how this one is a fleur-de-lis
and how in the region
where we come from
it is made differently
from someplace else
With only one eye
the other is glass
she sees more than I do
She is dying
my heart is unsteady
I am powerless
a witness to her fate
My mother’s hands create
embroidery with many
names and meanings
She patiently explains
the subtle meanings
behind each motifI
listened in awe
while she explained
all of this to me
I had nothing to say
Now there is even
less to say as
Each day brings her
closer to her end
I drown in helplessness
She tells us she is sick, not stupid
she knows her death is near
If only I could relieve her suffering
I would do so until the end
She alternates between begging for death
then apologizes for doing this
She is my mother, she worries
about me, my mental health
how I will handle her death instead
I think about her hands flying quickly
the needle moving as tho she has 3 eyes
The pattern suddenly emerging
Then the design is near complete
like the course of my mother’s life
My mother is an artist
She designs embroidery
- a dying art - and creates
any design she desires
her hands instruments
of a higher force
She explains to me
how this one is a fleur-de-lis
and how in the region
where we come from
it is made differently
from someplace else
With only one eye
the other is glass
she sees more than I do
She is dying
my heart is unsteady
I am powerless
a witness to her fate
My mother’s hands create
embroidery with many
names and meanings
She patiently explains
the subtle meanings
behind each motifI
listened in awe
while she explained
all of this to me
I had nothing to say
Now there is even
less to say as
Each day brings her
closer to her end
I drown in helplessness
She tells us she is sick, not stupid
she knows her death is near
If only I could relieve her suffering
I would do so until the end
She alternates between begging for death
then apologizes for doing this
She is my mother, she worries
about me, my mental health
how I will handle her death instead
I think about her hands flying quickly
the needle moving as tho she has 3 eyes
The pattern suddenly emerging
Then the design is near complete
like the course of my mother’s life
Subscribe to Posts [Atom]