MOTHER GOING FROM ONE ROOM TO THE OTHER Poem by Andriana Škunca

In the cube of dimness she always carves the same path with her heavy gait that supports her. Between entering the darkness and going to the other room, she relies on an invisible signpost.
Days are her obstacle.
Nights, on the other hand, awaken the presence of mind that guises her movements impeccably. Or, is it a habit repeated mechanically: going away and coming back?
A hand chooses, a stick measures.
Does anything help her or it is the need to cover the same distance, radiating particles of energy unknown to others?
I listen to the floor squeaking, the door creaking, the journey continues. Several times, with the same perseverance.
Yet - where did she arrive, and with what glory?