You are of one tree, although I have never touched your skin,
seen your eyes, nor had you hold me, like a brother.
I know your haunting, for I have heard, in the winds,
about you being locked under a house,
in the root cellar for being nothing more
than a foster child and the motherless hate that sprouted
there, in the dark, We were broken branches.
They say you have not spoken, to the one
who gifted us away like far-flung pods,
for almost a decade. She is blessed
by her forgetfulness. Oh, that we could forgive
that younger woman who cast some of us away
on to hard ground. Come, let us make pearl’s of ourselves.
Let us decorate this hollow tree with our jewels,
hang around her neck now that she can not unclasp us
and fling us far and wide again, come some cruel wind.
Come, brother of mine, this old woman is new to us
as we are to her. We are no longer the buds
she could not keep. She is beyond our saving.
Here, in this nursing home, she is our elder;
one who has lived her hell while we sought heaven
in the mire and muck, and lived in spite of it.
As she loses her memory of us, let us lose
our remembrance of what she bent us to.
We are as new as our next meeting with her.
When she claps her hands and greets us
as if she had never seen us before, we can renew
our ties because we will soon be just us
and not attached to the trunk of that tree
that lost its leaves in her hard seasons.
Author notes
My birth family has found me and there are twelve siblings and a living mother. We are struggling to gather ourselves together no matter how hard the fling was nor how far.
In a list
A contest entry
- Hit Me With Your Best Shot (Pre-writes allowed) by Dark Whispers.
315 points, ended April 2, 2007, 41 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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This was beautiful, my friend. I know so much about how this came to be and can not be more happier for you. What a joy to be reunited with family, that felt your spirit for years. Blessings and much love.
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"When she claps her hands and greets us
as if she had never seen us before, we can renew
our ties because we will soon be just us
and not attached to the trunk of that tree
that lost its leaves in her hard seasons."
Sighhh...What a beautiful metaphor you've woven throughout your life, my Sister...You are wise to forgive & forget as much as you can, for the pain would harm you more than anyone it might be aimed at...There are cruel winds that scatter many of us like fallen leaves...You are blessed by knowing upon which landscape the tree grows...& how far the horizon stretches beyond that hill that whispers you home...Gorgeous penning, my Friend...Good luck in the contest, Sweetie...
Wanda
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