Paradise Drive


Three siblings sleep within a shadow-spun cocoon (while their children look on), 
wrapped in generational trauma in their long winter days and freezing nights. 
Mothers who dream of a mother lost beneath a shattered moon, 
where Mother is the name for God in the hearts and on the lips of little children.

Wrapped in generational trauma in their long winter days and freezing nights, 
they searched North Stars unconditional to call their own. 
Where Mother is the name for God in the hearts and on the lips of little children, 
unaware Her spirit walks beside them always there, quiet and unknown.

They searched North Stars unconditional to call their own. 
One made a home, yet two remained in The Bardo, dark and deep,
unaware Her spirit walks beside them always there, quiet and unknown, 
where their hollowed hearts forget how to live and they have lost the will to weep.

One made a home, yet two remained in The Bardo, dark and deep.
One found her way to Paradise Drive, shaking her tambourine. 
Where their hollowed hearts forget how to live and they have lost the will to weep, 
their Mother’s spirit remains possessing, conditionally keeping all their hopes alive.

One found her way to Paradise Drive, shaking her tambourine.
She played life for all its worth to break the spell. 
Their Mother’s spirit remains possessing, conditionally keeping all their hopes alive, 
to reach back through the cold where shadows fall, She pulls them to Her heart.

She played life for all its worth to break the spell.
Mothers who dream of a mother lost beneath a shattered moon. 
To reach back through the cold where shadows fall, She pulls them to Her heart.
Three siblings sleep within a shadow-spun cocoon (while their children look on).

Candide Diderot. ‘ 26



“Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children.” 
(William Makepeace Thackeray, Vanity Fair )

absencelovemothermusepantoum

♡Like0

Poem

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

Paige Hind

August 26, 2026 at 1:39 PM

wow, speechless

Candide Diderot

August 23, 2026 at 9:29 PM

PERSONAL. For the sisters (and ALL the children). Generational Trauma; grief, absence of a mother (through death, estrangement, separation); Child sexual abuse; Betrayal; Survival; Trust; Faith; Hope; Love. (Forgiveness is a tricky line to walk and find the answer to). When estrangement drops its solid walls of lead, poetry remains the means to heal and communicate.

Candide Diderot

August 22, 2026 at 8:09 PM

"Your mother is always with you. She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street. She's the smell of certain foods you remember, flowers you pick, the fragrance of life itself. She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not feeling well, she's your breath in the air on a cold winter's day. She is the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep, the colours of the rainbow, she is Christmas morning (present or not).Your mother lives inside your laughter. She's the place you came from, your first home, and she's the map you follow with every step you take. She's your first love, your first friend, even your first enemy, but nothing on earth can separate you. Not time, not space, not even death." (Unknown).