ManicDDaily

Not a Mother, a Buddha, but Looks Motherly to Me

The Last Thing –  Mother To Child

For Rhona Saffer

Know that,
when I must go,
I will love you
just the same.

When I must go,
I know it will not feel
just the same.
There will be cool air—

I know it will not feel
like my lips—
but there will be cool air
caressing your face

like my lips,
while your smile only,
caressing your face
(oh reflection of mine),

will be your smile only.
I never wanted to cause you pain,
oh reflection of mine.
That was the last thing

I ever wanted to cause you—pain.
No, I would love you—
that was the last thing.
Just the same,

know, I would love you,
I will love you,
just the same.
Know that.

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The above is a poem (posted before) for Mother’s Day, written for a dear friend of mine, who was a consummate mother.  The poem was written for her when, in the terminal stages of breast cancer, she told me that one of the most painful parts of her impending death was her concern for the suffering it would cause her wonderful children. I was able to read the poem to her before her death. 

The picture is of a Japanese Buddha not mother! at the Yale Art Museum.  Although buddhas are generally male, this one has a very maternal feel, I think.  I am also linking this post to Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads, a site for poetry and support for poets, focusing today on motherhood.