I'd waited a hundred years it seemed
to find the grace of forgiveness.
Give it up . . . Let it go! . . .
something whispered in my dreams at night.
Nothing is worth the price of your soul!
But I, knowing that there would be
nothing left to hold onto without that pain,
decided to fasten it, like a scapula, to my skin
taking it with me at every chance
so that I could feel that feeling pinned
to me and never forget.
One day, without warning,
like the sun parting the clouds
In my heart I saw her, my Mother,
a child lost and forgotten
a waif with sorrow so deep I could not bear
and it all passed before me, her life
her loneliness inconsolable and hopeless
her mind disheveled and searching
for someone, anyone
to wrap her and rock her to sleep
and never have to say goodbye.
I let it go that day, and looked beyond my own pain
to this woman gone, my mother, whose life
I would not trade, nor could I change, waiting for
forgiveness that she knew would set me free.
Joanne Cucinello 2014