IV. Word
(to
my mother)
To
thank you enough
I have
finally found my way
(my
truth, my life).
I give
you this oath
(which
is your gift to me):
Although
for every hour by which
I have
shortened your life,
I would
gladly give in trade
a day
of perfectest joy,
instead,
I will redeem
every
minute of grief
you
ever spent on me.
It is
my griefs have saddened you most,
and
ever having saddened you is my most grief.
I will
set now all griefs aside;
I will
be now as happy as you always hoped.
I have
known you
longer
than I have known breath
from
the inside, out,
and
still have barely the gist of you
(curious
and humble,
grace
seeking grace)
who
gave substance to my idea,
knit me
together
from
threads of your own fabric,
then
passed the needles on to me.
I give
you this oath
which
is now mine to keep
(your
gift to me)—
and
every day will now become
my mother’s day.
