MOTHER MOTHER
I see the plaster pasted to your feet;
Watch you heave a bucket of water
And climb the steps of a corroded ladder.
Has the scenery changed since you were twelve?
Mother, Mother.
I hear the gunshots that passed your ears,
And feel the horror under your skin,
As the man, too old and tired, plummets into the paddy fields -
Painting the monsoon mud a dark shade of red.
You shudder silently, but pick the pace up again,
draining the rice fields amongst the skulls and bones sleeping under your feet.
Mother, Mother.
You sit silently against the window pane -
Your hands twitter with the blinds as
The screams from your young children
Drum and twang through your ears.
But I am here
I'm washed and clean
A packed suitcase
And a ticket to the city in the mountains –
Leaving you behind
Oh! Mother, Mother.
I know your pain,
I think of the faces that have haunted you
And sucked the days of your innocence dry -
Overseas and through the greener pastures,
You are faced with the same scenery.
The screams at the yawn of dawn;
The wheel barrows crossing distances;
Your small body under the crushing weight
But I am here
Hugging your fragile body
Before I board this flight
And your eyes tell me of your sacrifice –
Mother, Mother.
Plaster at your feet
A knot in your hair
A smile on your face
To keep my dreams alive
It's been twenty years since you ran.
Your small feet pushed against the roots of the paddy fields.
Your fierce heart filled with fear.
You dreamt of a green bush.
A place with paved roads
And dirt that refuses to sprinkle red
Onto your clothing
You found the green bush,
the lush forestlands and grass that bloomed for miles ~
you found your niche, but
the paddy fields are still there ~ in your mind
The hedges have been cut,
And you glare at the same faces again.
You still labour what cut your childhood.
And continue to suffer what haunted your sleep.
I'm sorry Mummy…
Just a few more years