The Girl Who Met Her Mother

4 0 0
                                    

During the passing of seasons, I see how the globe changes also; into colors, and shapes
But where does the time and life bygone go? I am willing to go with them; into my mother
Where I a sole entity, I would be dead long before reaching her. A fate that my memory escapes
But I am the globe itself. A perpetual change, disposing my old self; like daughter to another

I met my mother the other day. A beautiful tempest, where rage hits the heart and sparks it
Like summer rain, I am there for her to calm and chill the raging demon; a horned victim
It is my fault. Do I look like her daughter? I thought so. Long dead cold I do not seem to fit
But seasons change, and I forget. Was she my mother all along? My judgement cannot dictum

For am I the judge in here? As a mother to her daughter, do I change reason amidst grief?
I have forgotten the pain and the love. Of a living one. Of a changing one. Of one at all
Yet, for her, I turn into a new leaf. A blossoming spring hides the suspense of disbelief
It is impossible, and yet I forget. She is not my mother. But I am her daughter before fall

One more mother saved. Yet where does her time and life go? A loving husk of empathies
All return to my mother. I seek her, and yet I forget. Who is my mother? My sole companion
I am the globe of all mothers. Where I forget, they remember. My lack of childhood apathies
I never was the ignoring type. I am one with them, always. A kid who knows no canyon

I am ever high. Never sinking, always changing. I see my mother every day thanks to that
May the clouds lift me higher still. For I will fly and catch the tears that they may drop
I am a surrogate. I am disposable. I am forgettable, yet I always know where they are at
Today, I met my mother. A beautiful stream that drowned her heart in attempts to make it stop

As I change, so too do my mothers. But, what about their time and life? Do they change too?
I am willing to go with them. Into my mother. I am a daughter of both, a girl with no name
I am their world. A globe they call home. When I change, their view of me is no longer true
But it is not their fault I am ever changing. I forget who I am too; what daughter I became

My memory fails time and again. I dispose of it, but where does it go?
My life ends with my mother. I discard it too, but where does it go?
Their world ends with me. They throw me out, but where do I go?
All my time and life spent with them, where do they get me? Where do I go?

Where do I go when my mother calls for me? Where is she, if not inside of me
My mother lives within me. My mother is always with me. I forget, but she does not
I am love itself. A daughter to all mothers. Whomever it is, I am all they will ever be
Today I met my mother. What name would she give me now? Is that a gift she brought?

A name for me! A memory for her. I am melancholy this time, but where did my life go?
I lived so little with her. But now I must go. Into another mother, where did my time go?
The passing of me, like seasons; different lives in different times. Wind flow, to falling snow
I am your girl from long ago. I am she you watched grow. I am the world you left in woe

Today, I met my mother. A beautiful tomb right beside my own. I know now
I know where time and life go. I know my mother. And I know I will not forget
We rest eternal. No longer a grave to plow, my memory intact, of me and thou
I go with you now. Like the season, I changed. A new daughter each time she would beget

Memory Fragments: ProbityWhere stories live. Discover now