The Unasked And Never Answered Poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell

I turned the heat on last night to chase away the cold;
and I perceived you in the sepulcher of my bones,
the bones that ache with hunger and tears, the great ensouled
that never really knew you, just words turned into stones.

You could never share what was hidden so deep within;
and I lacked the curiosity or will to know,
lacked the maturity to ask the questions back then
that would haunt me all these years and never let me go.

Silence creates a blank page, absent of history,
absent of all things that give birth to being human,
breeding instead emptiness, a void, a mystery,
and a darkness that no one but you could illumine.

I know not the whereabouts of my ancestral home
nor the tangled branches of my familial tree.
I never knew the source of the pages in my tome
just the broken spine of a felled wingspan in the sea.

Framed from this perspective, I am painted shades of gray,
a revelation in a muddied stream of water.
With storm clouds in my hair, I embrace the hand of day
and rise as though I were someone's belovèd daughter.