Imagine living life with the soft percussion of ghostly taps, as if the unseen keeps checking whether you feel her

Imagine moods of dismay straddling your ribs, a world so poor in maps, you learn to navigate by ache alone

You crawl ceaselessly, shedding blueprint skin through the plans you inherited, the ones that never fit, No kinship to confide in, only their low light

And still, you wonder if memory will ever loosen grasp, if the mystery of your mother’s soul will rise from the hush of not knowing

Maybe she’s the breeze that brushes your cheek when no wind is forecast, a relentless gust trying to remember you as you wish you could remember her

I wonder if I’ll ever evoke the mystery of my mother’s soul— a silhouette of memory pulsating in the fog of forgetting

I whisper through the universal breeze, a relentless gust trying to gather the unknown acknowledgement

The fascination, the constant resemblance saving twilight, completely unsure how to proceed, mowing toward the opening

Imagine living life with the soft percussion of ghostly taps, as if the unseen keeps checking whether you feel her

Imagine moods of dismay straddling your ribs, a world so poor in maps you learn to navigate by ache alone

You crawl ceaselessly, shedding blueprint skin through the plans you inherited, the ones never fitting tight

No kinship to confide in, only the quiet congregation of souls still lingering, remnants past selves humming like low light

And still, you wonder if memory will ever loosen grasp, if the mystery of your mother’s soul will rise from the hush of not knowing

Maybe she’s the breeze that brushes your cheek when no wind is forecast, a relentless gust trying to remember you as you wish you could remember her

I wonder if I’ll ever evoke the mystery of my mother’s soul— a silhouette of memory pulsating in the fog of forgetting

She whispers through the universal breeze, a relentless gust trying to gather the unknown

Securing fascination, the constant resemblance saving twilight, completely unsure how to proceed, moving toward the opening, touching eternity’s light