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
Never mine.
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
Always mine.
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......