When last I looked on Mother's face,
Seeking soul's mysterious grace—
Down mythic depths of limpid pools,
Lurked veiled agenda, tacit rules.
Maternal runes were strewn full-slew,
When home again I came to you—
Noble tears washed down your cheek;
Compassion's mercy held me weak—
Humble ingress in love's true name,
Your purest heart with goodness came.
For, dearest friend, her eyes were doors,
Which never saw or loved like yours.
When last I spoke to Mother's ear,
Whispered wisdom of ancient seer—
Deep-laid truths filtered through the mask;
Mute, she balked at life's closing task.
Maternal virtues held no rue,
When home again I came to you—
Gentle sifting heard my sorrow;
Sacred essence blessed the morrow;
Life's sweet chorus, jointly shared—
Vigorous, dense, eternally paired.
For, dearest friend, her ears bore sores,
Which never heard or loved like yours.
When last I held my mother's palm,
Caressed her limbs with loving balm—
With hope that love would fingered show,
Felicity drowned in bloodless flow.
Maternal imprints etched no clue,
When home again I came to you—
Love refined, through arm's embrace,
You softly soothed heart's fevered pace;
Trust and strength, support full measure—
Constancy, love's sweetest treasure.
For, dearest friend, her hands owned flaws,
Which never held or loved like yours.