Before I die
A soft whisper in the rustling of leaves seems like a breath of sigh.
Accustomed to the loneliness of the past, bereft of company, you waited.
As streams of light filter through the loving greens, making way for the moon---
I gather delight in the dunes of time, when your motherly touch was all that I sensed.
I savoured the magic your hands wove, the delicacies, the fashion, asking for more.
You listened with patience all that I said, yet failed to hold it when I had to spare
some time when you were ill, and your body begged my touch in all its might.
I pick up the petals of wounded time, imploring Providence to once more bring
Back a call unheard, a request refused, an outburst ignored, a demand denied.
Before I die, let me whisper in the anticipation of a meeting; ‘Mother, please forgive me’.
**********************************
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
