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献给母亲的诗歌

送交者: 影云[♀★★声望品衔9★★♀] 于 2024-05-11 16:23 已读 5672 次 2赞  

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(mother and rose)


To the light and shadow of memory


I used to walk with my mother

along a dusty road after supper in summer
when I was five or six.

The fiery of the setting sun behind us dragged our shadows long.
When my mother taught me English words
I mimicked her, but my eyes followed those shadows on the ground
that went across the fields, through the woods, to the distant mountains in blue.
Once I repeated loudly
"bird, bird, bird"
while running with open arms to chase the shadows.
Sometimes flock of birds flew over my head
with their shadows away through mine;
sometimes I jumped into the shadow of my mother
looking back at her in the sunset.
I could see nothing
but squinted my eyes and felt her
walking toward me as a blur of light
in the brighter and brighter golden sunset.

Those lights were long gone,
but never died.

Many years later, in my dream,
my mother stood far away in the sea of light
smiling at me through the soft and peaceful white.

That was on the night of her funeral.

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