A Room of My Own: Our Dreams

for my mother

the full moon

from hometown memories

youthful Mother

I remember the night before I emigrated to Canada. My mother was helping me to pack my luggage, and she began to tell me about the dream she had the night before.

My mother stood holding me in her arms helplessly, unable to see anything ahead of her, for she was enveloped by darkness. With the passage of time, a pain rose from her feet and gradually up to her shoulders and arms. At the moment when she reached the point of almost despair, suddenly, a spot of bright space appeared by her side. She used her last ounce of strength to put me down while I remained sound asleep. As soon as I was laid on the ground, the earth unexpectedly began to tilt. My place of rest was now a slope. While careening down, I suddenly grew up, and within few minutes was no larger than a speck of dust.

waking from the song

Mother hummed years ago

autumn dawn

First published in Simply Haiku, 9:1, Spring 2011