Mother, I have lost you.
not through death's cold fingers,
nor from hatred's bitter wrench,
but from blindness
both yours
and mine.
You see I drifted,
boarded the boat of self indulgence
and threatened to cut the cord.
And you didn't notice.
Blinded by your own issues,
your own problems,
your man-child's dependence,
you didn't notice my knife of self-pity.
I looked to you for confidence,
justification,
identity,
but you were turned away.
So, in your blindness, I created my own.
I didn't see you for my mother,
as I once had done.
I cast off from the shore,
thinking of martyrdom,
taking the anchor
as you watched,
and dropping it into my mind.
I didn't see, you see, that it was
hidden
deep in my eyes full of
ocean,
so similar to your own,
I didn't see that you couldn't.
And now that I have shown you
I fear I am too late.
My boat has drifted from your shore,
the once secure knot
drifting into the current, swallowed
by an unforgiving sea.
But I will fight.
with oar's forged from wishes alone.
From the beacon of your love,
un-snuffable through the storm of my mind,
I will find you again.
I will swim, sink and walk the ocean's bed
if need be.
Mother I can see.
Now see me as I am.