Mother’s Love

moon and bare tree

I will never
see my child
he will never
gaze on me

I remember you looked at me,
your wise, clever eyes
gave birth to freshness
in my heart thick with fog.

Now you’ve gone far from me,
and residing only in my heart,
I am left alone to regret my failings,
I am left only to remember you,

             (I can’t breathe)

I am the mother who misses your smile
whose heart thirsts for your gorgeous face
like the withered flower thirsts water.
As seasons pass, year after year

I am the mother who worries, still,
yesterday, missing you as yesterday,
and then, I dream, I dream
you come back,

but you are not here,
only your smile and your crawl
come back, sneaking slowly into my heart

until every season is autumn
with leaves falling, for you are not here;
and I look again, and again it’s autumn:
leaves falling is the season of my heart,

and dreams of my boy coming, falling
and falling. Again the moon is shining,
again, the days are ending
again, I have a sorrow I face,

again the tears are dropping
again my boy—missing.
Rain touches my shoulder and tells me
Enough! It’s enough for you,

have dropped lots of tears in sorrow,
tonight, I will cry
for your boy, but I didn’t listen,

so all night we both cried
and still, there was no news.
Why did I send my boy to Russia?
Every sound a tick-ticking clock.

But no news of my boy.

By Nelab

Photo by Luz A. Villa


  1. Nelab, this is poem is stunning! Very well done! And I must stop typing to pray to God that I will never, ever, ever feel the feelings that this woman is feeling. Yet I know that millions of women’s hearts would burst if they read this right now, for it is saying what they are feeling, or what they have felt, saying it with such tender, potent accuracy.

    “Every sound a tick-ticking clock”…


    Keep up the excellent work, Nelab!


  2. Elizabeth Titus says:

    Dearest Nelab,
    I am so happy to see your poem on the blog! When I worked with you as a mentor on this poem, I recall that I asked you for more details about the boy sent to Russia. Now, I see how wrong I was! The details do not matter, because this poem is about the most universal feeling of a mother’s love, and loss. Reading your poem now, I realize that it could be written by the Chinese woman who, 19 years ago, left her three-day-old baby girl on a cold street in Anhui Province, with a note pinned to her blanket. That baby girl is my adopted daughter, Lili. I have always believed that her birth mother “gave her up” because she wanted a better life for her daughter, and that it was an act of bravery and love. This is how I feel about the woman in your poem.
    All the best,

  3. belinda says:

    …beautifully written…emotional…made me cry…

  4. oh realy thank you

  5. This poem is absolutely awesome !!

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