When she left in a hurry,
Her quick steps failed
To go down the stairs
Silent and unnoticed.
The floor shuddered,
The thatched wall trembled
From the endless worries
Of her heavy feet.
She shook and woke me up
In my screeching crib,
A prison to defaced dolls
And hanged wingless insects.
I learned by myself
How to stand, how to walk,
Capture a sudden chance,
And unravel the spirit's magic.
The needle she used to sew
Holes and hems, lacy veils,
And monks' saffron robes
Pointed me to the East.
I tied both of my hands
Onto the end of its thread
She span from hemp and gold
In her dreams and self-hypnoses.
They pulled and led me first
To the valley of paddy fields
Of munias and black sparrows
On the stalks chewing grains.
I only saw the vanishing prints
Of her wet diabetic feet-
Thumbless and deformed
From wounds and gangrenes.
Next we went to the sea
Swelling calm waves at noon,
Pushing bubbles and froths
To the barren, salty shore.
I did see our red canoe
That bore her rosy name
Laid peacefully on salt and sand,
But its paddle was now gone.
They dragged me everywhere,
To the moss-covered rocks,
To the yellowing foliage,
To the crickets I did not hear.
I begged them to stop
And steered the thread
To turn the stubborn needle
Towards my mother's home.
We followed the fish scales
Scratching my bare ticklish feet
And walked on drips of blood
Staining grasses and clay.
Then I saw the chaffs-
On the road bursting open,
Abandoned and left to decay,
Flying lifeless in the wind.
The needle tumbled in the air,
The thread swayed into a dance,
I hopped, slid, and ran,
We finally reached her home.
From the stairs outside,
I traced the baffling scents
Of fermenting milk and detergent,
And perfume and pungent garlic.
They brought my excited steps
Into the kitchen, by the stove,
Near the pots, to my mother,
Who steamed rice and boiled stew.
The thread loosened itself,
Became a feather, and flew,
While the needle disappeared
Among spines, swords, and thorns.
As for myself who could now talk,
Blow embers to make fire,
I finally found what I had lost,
The bosom for my inaudible words.