Mother & Son

I wrote this a while ago but couldn't think of a title until recently. It came to me when I realized that I was thinking of the bond between my brother and my Mom - unique, special & unbreakable. They were so dependent on each other, their lives so entwined that it seemed sometimes like they existed in a universe all their own, unreachable to the rest of us 'mere mortals'. They always seemed perfectly in sync with each other, something I've never felt with my Mom - you know how it is between mothers & daughters!

And so I guess, this is my ode to their relationship of mutual compassion, nurturing and love...

He found her waiting for him, one misty winter morn,
She sat silent beside him, in the slowly waking dawn.
He thought she felt familiar, like an old and trusted friend,
Her eyes shone kind and gentle, her presence a godsend.

“Who are you?” he ventured, “Have I seen you before?"
"Why do you seem so lonely? Tell me,” he implored.

She smiled at him and said, at once both sweet and sad,
"I have this longing in my heart, I think I always had.
My story is the same as yours, for I am but your shadow,
I feel all that your heart does, your dreams, your joys, your sorrow."

Gazing into those wise brown eyes, twin windows to her soul,
What he witnessed, deep within, shook him to his core.
He saw in them his loneliness, his darkest thoughts and fears,
Rage and guilt and tears he saw, piercing liquid spears.

Stunned, he dropped his eyes to earth, shielded from her gaze,
He wondered how she would survive, the awful burden of his fate.

She looked at him once more, with her wry and tender smile,
"I carry all your weight," she said, "so you may rest awhile.
So give me all your troubles, your worries and regrets,
Let me smooth away your pain & ease your tortured breath."

In her honeyed voice, she sang to him, he gave in to her plea,
The best thing he ever did, was lay his head upon her knee,
He gave in to deep slumber, as she softly stroked his face.
And found his peace in dreamless sleep, grace in hallowed space.

Come morning, when he awoke, to a world awash in dew,
Together they rose, Mother and Son, refreshed, alive, renewed.

- Harsha