On the eve of the fourth anniversary of my mother’s death, I have recorded a reading of a poem I wrote and posted on the 11th August, 2011. I was deeply moved once again reading all the comments on the original post, and I wish to thank to everyone who has shared or supported me on the journey of learning to engage with life without my mother. You can listen to my reading here.
Her hands, strong and articulate,
Whilst describing new perspectives.
Digging earth to bring its bounty forth,
Or climbing rock –
She touched the world, and so it touched her back.
Her hands that bathed my newborn flesh;
They wiped my tears,
And across distance wrote to soothe my fears.
Those hands turned cold, then turned to flame, then dust.
Yet in my heart, her hands will always be:
Memories wrapped forever around me.