Mystery
I told everyone I didn’t care,
so long as it’s healthy,
but sitting on a bus one day
watching mothers and daughters
in the street turn in to one another,
(how did I even know the relationship?)
I had to stroke my stomach,
every finger an appeal, and later,
when I held her through that first night,
tiny body settled in the crook of my arm,
I’d have turned myself inside out
so she could wear my skeleton as protection,
but we just carried on a conversation
begun long before either of us was born.
and though I wanted to tell every happy
ending, could only whisper, 'you',
into her shell-like ear, had to trust
her to find the tunnel that lead past
the talking wall to find the one wishing
shell, and on to the ray of light
falling like a perfect circle in her path,
and the fact that she didn’t know
how she’d got there, or even her purpose,
was her mystery to unravel, not mine.
Beautiful xx
ReplyDeleteBeautiful and so true.
ReplyDelete