It was that time of year
towards end of summer
lately leaves fall
with barely a breath of wind
in the garden.
I remember running after you.
tugging at your sky blue skirt.
trailing on sun scorched ground,
craving attention, child I was.
Stooping you picked me up.
clasped me to your breast,
gently as you picked
faded now forgotten flowers.
Oh Holy Mother with haloed head
I can never be the lover that you lost
ecstasy was yours and sorrow
Carefree childhood days have gone
on wings of blossoming wisdom.
Prom that Tall Tower of Temptation
I saw the World, but let it go.
Now mother I’m hanging on this cross
spare pitying tears
for if I am Father,
Son and Holy Ghost.
Then ecstasy was mine and sorrow
This agony is mine and horror
Written in South Africa 1977
I like this story-poem and I believe that I understand it, except for the lines beginning with 'O Holy Mother' ending with 'Never mine' - who is addressing her (not her Son - - 'I can never be the lover that you lost') ? An interesting poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
the story told...and left us guessing to re read to wonder......