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| Original Painting by Samantha Thompson, 2010 |
travel around my head,
a can of worms,
each extremity closes in on
my fallen crest to remind me,
my mother’s curse to remember
forever to be alone, longing,
unable to utter a word
unless someone first speaks to me.
Glades
how happily we played,
my sweet sisters,
each tree a spirit to pray before
the lilied pond mirrors me,
what a joy to be reminded
that never will I be, alone,
wandering this wonderland
that silently first speaks to me.
Pond
So still without ripples,
why, my mother,
did you strike me down in silence,
it was not I who betrayed you?
No longer can you hear my thoughts
rushing along that cool stream
edging reeds so that they bend
rushing along that cool stream
edging reeds so that they bend
to that silent mirror of touch.
Wait,
that’s all I have,
not to speak unless spoken to
uttering only the last word
or phrase, that’s all I have left
to give back what is given me,
forever to be alone, longing,
unable to utter a word
unless someone first speaks to me.
