Home

1.
I sense her presence here sometimes
The mother I cannot see
Because when I was young she died
Before she got to know me
as the woman that I would be,
Still her presence lingers, real,
just beyond grief, just beyond feel.

2.
She thinks I cannot see her
The daughter I left alone
To live her life without me
Guiding her through her coming
Of age; I suffer the fate of every ghost
In every haunted home
To see their beloveds in joy or in need
And nothing to be done

in response to the dverse prompt of 11/7/19, on perspectives. Here’s another on the topic.

19 thoughts on “Perspectives

  1. I’ve always felt that my mother died because of disgraceful things I had done. This was when I felt there really was a god, and I was being punished. I still am. Your poem is a much healthier outlook.

    • Yeah, I’ll tell you about my guilt over my mother’s death sometime. Also lol that believing in ghosts is the healthy outlook.

  2. Oh what a wonderful post. The two perspectives are each so visceral….I can feel the longing in both of them. I was privileged to be with my mother when she died some twenty years ago. But she is still with me…..not only in my heart and mind – and sometimes in the mirror when I look at myself and see a bit of her! But also phsycially I bear her mark on my belly….that umbilical cord that tied us together — as she nourished me in her womb. My belly bears the everlasting physical mark of that connection. Most people don’t think of navels that way….I’ve always thought of them in that way. Our visible tie to our mother no matter where she is.

  3. Your dual perspective poem stirred up my emotions, Xan. I sometimes sense my mother and the line ‘just beyond grief, just beyond feel’ describes it perfectly. As a mother, I have empathy with the ghost, watching, not being seen, unable to comfort or rejoice with her child.

    • thank you so much! I rewrote that line probably ten times, I’m so glad it got where it needed to go. I work a lot with that idea that people think one should “move on” or “get over it”– you never do. Blessed Be.

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