I heard it for myself, but I didn’t understand it.
It was mumbled, passed under the air,
the translation was kind, so I don’t really believe it;
but why would you say that, mom? Why say that…?
Were you pushed to a wall and forced to finally speak?
My self-esteem cannot release me
because I don’t even know if I am looking at myself anymore.
I pray to god and I pray to god.
I know the mother spirit is listening and is there with me
through the struggle,
I know my heart is good,
but what did I hear?
Was that you, finally coming exposed?
Did you ever want me, or want us,
my sister and I;
that have been dragged over fields by our hair, screaming
for peace, unconditional love, from the lap of
We want more, yes. We do.
Your face has always been in my memory:
A smile from the shadows;
maybe always an illusion
to the mother I wanted to see;
one who gave love.
Jessica M. Wilson