Artist

Alexander Averin

Sunday, 30 March 2014

Mothers Day



Pablo Picasso 1922


On a day when we are supposed to think fondly of our mothers (though I do so every day) this poem is not a new one but I post it again for all mothers who have been forced to be parted from their children and for all children who have been parted from their mothers, for whatever reason. (I am the baby in this poem, not the mother). 



Mothers Day


On a silent, irridescent, cobweb morning 
I laid my indigo baby in a
cradle of crystal, her wrap was pure love,
intractable and true, like her beauty.
Be under no illusion, she was born 
from an illicit assignation, but to
a world  where forgiveness was forbidden.
I was labelled loose, wild, irrational
but my life had always been impervious to hope, 
and happiness incomprehensible.
Unable to speak, or break our silence,
I held her hand as I breathed my goodbyes 
and wished for her a life more illustrious.
When she had been taken I could breathe no more;
for I was suffocating slowly under 
lumps of hardstone, which became lodged in my heart
with an inextricable, forever kind of pain.
in a locked-in, forever kind of silence, 


Cait O’Connor


4 comments:

Kay G. said...

Incredibly moving poem, and the art to go with it is perfect.
I hope you and your mother both had peace about your separation.

Elizabeth said...

Dear Cait,
Yes, such a heartbreaking poem on a heartbreaking subject.
You know how my thoughts echo yours today.
How I grieve for the long ago mother who I parted with in a similar way.....and never found.

Countryside Tales said...

That's a beautiful poem Cait.

farmlady said...

Wow, Cait. This is a powerful poem. I'm speechless.
I will be reading your blog for the insight and skill of your written words.