A ‘friend’ passed a message to me from my mum
that’s how my Monday morning begun
She said my name in a strangely familiar way,
an unheard intimacy for twenty five years straight
‘You are wonderful. You are beautiful. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m here now, let me help you. And my granddaughter, she’s incredible…’
My ‘friend’ spoke these words without flinching an eye
I, reduced to tears could feel her close by.
I wanted so much to believe she’s around
wanted to believe she’s proud of me, feel her close when I’m down.
I always believed in me, myself and I,
yet my mamma and papa are part of the I,
Now I embrace their unearthly presence
I didn’t need to feel so much guilt, shame – carry such a heavy penance.
I remember the little girl feel relief when she heard, her mamma had passed to go to another world –
the pain she had felt would now surely subside and no longer would her soul suffer like it had all her life.
© Marisa Signora (2005)
Biography of the poet
I was born in Milan and largely lived in the UK, but I now live in Catalonia, Spain on an almond finca. I have been writing poetry in English since I could speak at the age of eight and am currently in the process of finishing my first novel. I have always loved writing and have recently started to create watercolour art.
Analysis of the poem:
This poem is a mainly rhyming recount of a random yet very significant incident that happened to me quite a long time ago when someone I knew was visiting me. Randomly informing me she had a message from my mamma, who had passed away when I was nine. It expresses my feelings of guilt I had carried all my life for the life of suffering I was told she had led.
Not having really known my mother much beyond the age of three, the main feeling coming over me as a little girl all those years ago, when I was told she had passed away, was relief. Relief that she was no longer in pain.
The feelings the message brought up was further relief. Relief that she didn’t blame me, she was proud of me and had always been here in my heart with me. Growing up without a mother, I really learnt to count on myself and the message softened my heart and allowed me to accept her love freely in my heart.
Not a poem of metaphors and similes or even much imagery. More of a personal account.
Share
