Milena Valkanova
Photo: akshay moon
Mom, there are times
when your hand in mine
feels like throbbing
of a thousand lives together.
We are the unsundered
chain of blood
meandering
within the riverbeds
where our great grandmothers
threw their daughters like bread
on the water.
Now is a time
to let your mother walk
on the Dead Sea of your tears
toward the dawn of forgiveness,
so that you can grow,
so that our women’s blood
is purified
and continues its way
to my future daughters
and she, and you, and we
come back again
like bread on the water.
2 comments so far ↓
Donal Mahoney // Nov 4, 2009 //
This is a very moving poem. It would be even more moving for me personally if I knew that it was written by someone for whom English is a second language. I see no translator named so I assume Milena Valkanova wrote it herself as I read it on the page. What I like best is the undercurrent of sound that is uninterrupted by any “faux pas” in diction. That’s an achievement tough enough for someone who speaks English from birth. Wonderful poem.
DeProfundis // Nov 4, 2009 //
Hi, Donal, yes, I wrote it straight in English during a special time of my life; an acclaim from a native speaker is so much valuable. Thank you for your kind words.
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