Mothers wait. The faces are blank.
Year after year searching the eyes on the street wondering if her color matches, her size matches, her voice matches the long ago cry from delivery.
There are no eyes.
Every dream ends with emptiness.
She skips through the chambers of her mother's heart into the arms of another, unaware of her journey.
She doesn't know her face was erased for another who longs for her.
She doesn't know that under the same sky another waits and wonders and worries.
Another, as hard as she tries, can't conjure the features that they share. She tries to imagine the small voice calling momma.
Sadly, hauntingly, beautiful painting and poem Carlynne. Very powerful image & words.
ReplyDeleteThanks Susie, I spent many years watching girls on the street who had the coloring I thought my daughter might have, looking for girls who might be the same age, wondering if she was the one. In a closed adoption you spend so many years searching. Every time I left the house, what started as just an errand became a focus on faces. It was so wrong that we were made to live that way.
ReplyDeleteThat is beautifully written. I am an adoptee and I used to do the same thing - only wondering if that woman in the grocery store, etc. was my mother.
ReplyDeleteWow, great poem.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. Very beautiful.
ReplyDelete