Mother would come to me late in the night,
After her concert,
Humming some song she had sung—
Hair down and barefoot,
Her fingertips brushing my cheek
Smelling of jasmine and sandalwood.
Hers was the breath that could flow in the night
Through the hallways with flickering light,
Voice that said, “Certainty.”
She forgave everything—
Money I squandered,
My fidgeting poetry, years living abroad,
Wedding a foreigner,
Children she never knew,
Return in despair—
Loathing my father,
Even that she forgave.
And she sat with me during the night,
Stroking my brow, while I listened
To waves of the sea—
You are the question and I am the answer,
Your comfort, so breathe with me,
I am the sea that rolls over you,
I am the green and your comfort,
Say yes, then say yes, then say yes.