Get Your Premium Membership

For mom

Being an adoptee, It was a dream to meet my biological mom, wrap my arms around her, and thank her for giving the chance at a beautiful life. Upon our meeting in 2011, she asked me in Spanish tongue if I forgive her. This poem is my response to her. My hands grow cold in a room of flowers And yours, a fusion of water, bone, and light In the tender palms of a grown daughter. These are the moments when prayer is vital, When the stillness of the heavens still cannot describe How perfect your face looks. Thirty three years can't separate a man from his words. Nor can it separate a man From his heart. Mom, if I can hold your hands, I will tell you In absolute silence, Every second of my life.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.