Nestled there beneath her heart
listening to the waves crashing
with futility upon the curve
of her ribs, the sturdy piles
of the mystic wharf from whence
I launched, ever mindful of
the rush of that sacred river
the clink and clatter of
myriad things discarded there
feeling the weight of it then
upon my small shoulders
like purpose embraced
a tiny, untried Atlas,
O mother, what darkness
you loosed upon the world
when the moorings slipped
and off I went, already
wet with worldly tears
and all the words I heard
through walls too thin
like fish hooks caught
in flesh, that can only
be removed by first
pushing them deeper
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent poem. Awesome poem for mothers. Nothing in this word compares to her love for their children. We are always Nestled there beneath her heart. Love this poem.10++++.
Thank you for the kind words Amir. G