Passages of my childhood arise within my mother’s death gaze,
bringing reminiscences of olden days.
In childhood, we would speak in silent gaze.
No mother left to envision me now, now within those quiet eyes.
You have gone away oh, dear mother,
let the memories rest beneath your eyelids.
But never close your eyes!
The imageries still dance in them!
While vibrancy in your still eyes remain,
I’ll save this voiceless reflection I saw from a mother’s hushed eyes.
Images from when I was a child, often sorrow-hearted,
gave me purpose that last day with her.
The memories she had protected;
those reflections I saw from a mother’s hushed eyes.
I remember the life of my mother’s glossy eyes,
my reception of joy to her when I returned home that last day,
always gently did her eyelids come to rest waiting for me to speak,
now are open, and silent. They left me for the cold of death.
While mute voices do persist, in those images
I’ll remember, this vivid reflection I saw,
from my mother’s hushed eyes.
My goodness, this hit me in the gut. My mother passed 8 years ago. But I still sense her keeping an eye on me from above…so I must weigh my decisions carefully.
very relatable write.
j.