By: Alexandra H. Rodrigues
Will I be able to abandon the abundance of letters
Those collected for over years and years?
Filled with thoughts of long forgotten matters
Speaking about hopes, wishes and fears.
They had gotten stashed in numerous files
To bridge between my mother and me
The distance of over three thousand miles
To where I had now chosen my life to be.
Avid letter writers we both always were
Each letter about days in our lives does read
For with each other we wanted to share
What was important then and now obsolete.
I leaf thru some of the letters out of sentiment
It feels as if a conversation is taking place
Because they are written in my mother’s own hand
An aura of her being with me forms an embrace.
I have neither time nor the will to read them all
The past is gone, for memory I just keep some
Guilt grips me when into the garbage I let many fall
It is sad, but out of place they did become.
Now the future demands my full attention
The present from the seeds of old times has grown
To nurture it for the next generation is my attention
What the past once held, now in my soul I own.
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