Like the wind tosses
autumn leaves,
sorrow has strewn
my memory--
it's spotty at best.
But if I close my eyes,
I can still feel your hands
caress my hair as I slept--
they’re even softer, gentler
in the darkness.
And sometimes
I see a glimpse of you
in the mirror.
I see you
behind swaying curtains
and swinging doors;
I know you are there, but
I can never find you
when I look for you;
and I choose to run away
to a place that is safer than this.
But when the spring lilies bloom
their stems sprout
above the root of your words;
I know them all too well.
They tell me that
your God has not left me.
They tell me that
your God is my God.
And he will be good to me
as he was good to you.
And that one day,
I will find you
when I look for you.
© 2012 Helena Malheur
For my mother (Dec 1942- Apr 2006)
For my mother (Dec 1942- Apr 2006)
