The Kiss Of Mortality

I am tipped into eternity     
those who walled me in have floated away.
I scramble at memories
from sinking into the desert sand –
the whisper of mortality. 

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The Fire Girl

Face rubbed clean
hair pulled back,
fiery dahlia pushed deep into dirty locks
a small girl waits near the traffic lights since dawn.
A cheap image of Jesus
painted in garrulous pink and blue
is adorned by flowers from the previous day.
Carrying the Lord on a dented plate
she begins her performance for the day
as she eyes the traffic slowly thicken the street.  

That Night, This Night : A Moonscape

That Month

That Month
in that white moonlight,
            we had our father,
            and no one
            could take the hill.
This month
in this white moonlight,
            kings with drums
            drumming victory
            have taken over the hill,
and we
have no father.

                        Paari’s daughters on the death of Paari
 (Translated by A.K.Ramanujam in ‘Poems of Love and War’)  

Remembering My Mother

My Mother seems so far away from me,
On that beautiful white shore across the sea.
Yet I remember love’s soft glow upon her face,
And the feel of her touch and tender embrace.

When I am weary from the burdens I’ve borne,
And the path is unclear and I feel so forlorn,
I remember her loving support was always near,                                                               
And her advice made the path ahead seem clear.

When I feel there is no one who seems to care,
Or when the heartache seems too hard to bear,
I remember how she always stood by my side,
And would tenderly wipe away the tears I cried.

When there are moments of great joy and pride,
And I wish my Mother was standing at my side,
I remember she saw more than I thought I could be,
And know I owe my triumphs to her belief in me.

When I reminisce about the things she used to say,
And I miss her and think she is so far away,
I remember what she gave lives on through me,
And one day I’ll see her on the shore across the sea.

Belinda Stotler