My mother walked softly round her silent house
While images faded from darkening mirrors
And the grey ash of fear
There would be no return, as I know
Your childhood is sealed for ever,
A ship in a stoppered bottle.
Now You travel strange roads, sleep
In strange beds and your dreams
Are the dreams of a stranger.
Your life Speaks with a different tongue.
Memories grow transparent
I search for your essence
In hastily scrawled letters, and
Recoil from the apprehension
Of your total absence. The wind
That sweeps over sea and over land
Effaces all tracemarks-it measures
The distance between us. And distance
Takes many forms–of space and time.
Heart, mind and darkness.
So I shall light
A lamp in my window every night,
To comfort myself and also
To guide you safely home.