does my mind play tricks on me,
a magician who waves the wand
across the top hat for a rabbit to appear...
does my mind play tricks on me a magician who waves the wand across the top hat for a rabbit to appear have you returned to fill the lacuna in my life the missing piece ~ the closure You, who I relied upon, who sated my desires the figure beneath the ghostly sheet that walks the passage-ways of my dreams
is my love for you not finished I see you walk along concrete streets out of doorways ~ I hear the bell that peals your existence my mind sees you, two steps in front of me back turned distancing yourself I call, but have no answer is this your sign to move on, relinquish what I feel
to someone that I loved yet you are creeping back, inch by inch to present day, disrupting the life that I had to make, a decision not of mine to forget what was ours, I can't extinguish the love we had, unrealistically so to ask and my question is ~ should you not let me be so that I move on
I shall answer ~ a finger placed upon your lips, I cannot, not for now in this moment I feel you next to me, a hand held a whispering kiss the passions of the night, the laughter in the days, the wine against the sunsets you are not real ~ you have disappeared and I walk the concrete streets alone holding you in my heart cradling you in my arms
I am the Author of The Empty Nest- A Mother's Hidden Grief. (EPub) This is available through Lulu and Amazon. The memoir is the story of my life as a mother, with an emphasis on the unspoken grief, which accompanies the process of letting go of one’s children as they grow up. As much as a mother loves her children, she must endure, at many stages of their growth, the pain of losing them. The inevitable “cutting of the ties” culminates when the day arrives for her children to leave home. For many women, this time coincides with profound personal changes of menopause and fiftieth birthdays. My own recent experience of this process prompted me to revisit my life as a mother, and to delve into the journals which I had kept since I was pregnant with my two daughters, some twenty years ago. The journals reveal the learning curves of motherhood and I was able to use this material to form both the chronological backbone of the memoir, and to expose the “heart” of the story in the touching and personal moments that I had recorded. Here are the links if you are interested.