Time’s Whispered Cadence

For my adoptive mother…

Dampness invades graying hair
held tenderly in my right hand
hoping the touch of my left upon her face
might vanquish the invading cold
release the still clinging question

Rising to caress my fingertips
her last breaths evoke memories
so warm
yet so icy in their message

Patience moves my palm upon her forehead
awaiting conveyance
who am I
from where
why
a life lived so many years without answers

Eyes close on this once young mother
delivering death at birth's first born
suffering loss of voice
loss of sound
shock pleading to heal
months of remorse
until

Healing rose from an abandonment
adoption of a week-old child
embraced by a suffering
but tender surrogate by year's end
a motherless child
hers to raise
hers to love

Guilt takes no prisoners
she exclaimed so many years later
it is not enough to do the right thing
giving merely suspends reality
all the way to one's last breath

Now

Gazing at a still body
I imagine that first day
when her caring eyes
may have delved beyond my vision
conveying kaleidoscopic blur
memories without form
delayed transcendence
for this moment

How precious
this wilted body before me
this woman who became
my light in the dark
whose clothes I will now fold
arrange
and...

Bedside light dims
two mothers
one son
spirits together again in darkness
identities at peace
unseen smiles shared
side by side hearts
moving together
in time’s whispered cadence