She Who Wears The White Hairs

she who wears the white hairs
teaches me what to do with my life
i embrace her and take the clue
from the scent of her wisdom
earned by her for years and years
the weight burdening much
on her bare shoulders

her wrinkles speak of the struggles
of the past warring on the moles of her
cheeks the furrows where tears rush
and fall and then seep on the floor

i kiss her tonight for it is her birthday
and i whisper to her my gratitude
i smell the sweetness of her soul
and it sinks deeper into the recesses
of my heart: here is the lady who made me

i once remember the Chinese eyes in me
my brown skin so tight to my bones
my complacency removed from my youth
my mind soaring like a blithe spirit in the air
she was there all the days of my life
teaching, guiding and patiently noting
what i lack, what i need and what i must be

soon i shall have her white hairs too
her wrinkles her sad smile her own death
soon like her i will stand proud too
she did her best and we were brought to the test
she does not mind her passing we are ready for the timing
we shall switch roles, she dies we save more souls

by RIC BASTASA

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