Below is the poem entitled First Mother, First Son - The Unspoken Words which was written by poet
archuletta. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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…What he found told that they each live lives which revolve around an ever deepening sense of a mother’s regret;
… a weighted loneliness, held only by the truly broken of heart that surrender to their own pain.
This was a pain obviously based on guilt; with enough for him to realize, - could’ve led her young mind to find comfort in his presented destiny…
“…but at what price?” he asked out loud!
Edifyingly, the few times she spoke of the adoption, in her voice there always maintained a high level of doubting inflection.
This was a conscience still ensconced at the summit of its grief; there would never be a fulfillment of her self-sacrificing penance.
That was the way her life ended…
In stark, contrasting analogy of her coercion, – was that he too, has since found himself on same like hilltop.
This place was real, in overlook and earth.
One that evokes true ironies, where metaphors in life’s journey’s reflections do view from both sides …,
but sometimes, - these stop you cold!
His person just stood there mesmerized, while staring at this lonely snow fence, still dripping after a late summer storm's rain.
Upon fleeting touch, he back away when felt was the wet of sorrow’s myriad of shed tears; … he would soon feel the stinging salinity of his own!
It then occurred, and not by volition, an eerie loosing of these forlorn and mystic cries;
a sounding that had instantly chilled the autumn air.
These were the conjured bring from tailing empty winds that rush thru and by a fence’s waiting pickets...
…In this field of view were the unknown mothers of different circumstance;
each knowing what he had heard only all too well.
They were his gone but stalwart Praetorian Guard, only long gleaned of any shown emotion…
And now, through his welling eyes, a vision became this phalanx of weathered but now endeared souls,
- yet still howling for the cold, cold company charged to their every winter’s keep.
His tears now began to fall – and follow…