POEM: “To my mother”

When I walk at night alone

in the deep wadis of her sobs

or when I know that each time I drive fast

or laze the reply to her letters;

when I know that at midnight

she sits up praying to her God

to keep me warm and whole,

when I know that she will still bless me

though I give her eyes cause to tears,

when I know that all my warts and ways

will turn to gold at her simple touch,

then I see through her the God she sits rotating her

beads to and then I know that her God

will always be there for me to reach out and touch.