Destiny’s Child by JLR
I
Dad left one day, unseen. Mom shed no tears.
Alas, intense despair ablaze, she steamed.
When you did speak, I swore I heard some cheers,
between long gaps of sleep, you cried, then dreamed.
Of what, of where, or when and who was lost
as you sighed some and tossed, then turned again.
I thought dad was the cause; a drawn line crossed
which made him mad and brought upon this bane.
Life did improve, with joy beyond sad days.
At times smiles beamed most days again for us,
Aloneness then would stoke your flames crossways.
Then strain from loss regained its grasp; you’d fuss.
As son, I watched you try to hold your calm,
to bear this fate in stride, no more a bride.
But what was most concrete you were my mom.
My rock, to my relief, you would not hide.
Much change did swamp our lives, our hopes each day
You strode beyond your loss and were okay.
II
You strode beyond your loss and were okay.
That just is how, indeed, unwed moms are.
So right, because inflamed is not the way
to move ahead and seek your guiding star.
Your time demanded twice more the resolve
to put distress far off, behind yourself.
Because neglect was not a choice to solve
the need's of, and time, for the lone child itself.
In truth, immense morale displayed is seen
when one foot falls ahead, with head held high
to teach the way how to be kind, not mean
or harsh through all the highs and lows and why.
Oh sure! Days have some downs. This we all know.
A job, long hours, cooked meals, house clean, clothes washed.
Each task, a day, then weeks, then months, this though
would make the best of men want to get sloshed.
Therein the rub is felt he was no saint
As you always applied mature constraint.
III
As you always applied mature constraint
and used calm words with folks, inanely odd,
perhaps at times, some things required restraint.
so much I learned perceiving your slight nod.
Unawed by these diverse, so-called, wise seers
who told you how to thrive alone and think.
My world was kept unjudged, unchained for years.
I felt your trust, your love untried, in sync.
Does time heal all chagrin and soothe the soul
like salve atop deep wounds that heal within?
inside scars were not seen, just a black hole.
Encased in pain your wounds keep you shut in
But then, when dreams of hurts befell the eve
Your whimpers would be loud, at times, not still.
By chants of Psalms and praises, you would cleave
then rest, that brought you Peace bracing your will.
Would I, perchance, adopt a mind of hate
about the love that binds our lives by fate?
IV
About the love that binds our lives by fate
How might you act by my attempt to know
around that night when you both were irate.
Such wrath not seen before, his strike, that blow.
Then gone, as like the wind from east to west
that seemed to sweep away, as he were naught,
alike soft sighs not heard in a steel chest,
he was beyond extinct - here then, then not!
So, what then binds a child and mom for years
while this boy child grows up, becoming keen?
Is it our fate that binds or just moms’ tears
that kept the urge to know of sighs unseen?
To spend my life with some holes not filled in
has led me to my own made-up tall tale,
to set my own created world ... was spin.
When asked." Who is your dad?' I would set sail.
But now, you have been laid to rest at last
I find more time to clean and purge the past.
V
I find more time to clean and purge the past.
Despite the dread incurred, I start, as thoughts
ascend, descend from start to end. Aghast
I search. A thing, a place, a time; the dots.
In your ensuite, that faint aroma hangs
a bit on this and that, the dress, a coat.
My mind records then block away those pangs
of guilt, some fear, my loss, those years afloat.
On your nightstand, a King James sits, well used.
I search the books; then some caprice took hold
of me, that shook my core that God excused
all words you held locked in your heart controlled.
Within the Book of Ruth, a note was sealed.
Surprised, with much unease, my hands embraced
the prize with great suspense but, with much Grace
for this must hold the uncanny foretaste
The note began Dear Son; you shall now find
the truth you sought spun in a web confined
VI
The truth you sought spun in a web confined
is on the shelf above the stack of shoes
a cache I kept for all these years defined
in cards and notes from him to me, the clues.
With great suspense, I am intense from bliss
to hold at last in my two hands these posts
composed by who? Compiled by you, for this
precise event you had foreseen the most.
I find some stains; perhaps your tears had made
with dates before you wed that man, my dad?
About that time, he wrote I shall upbraid
no one, dear mom. I ache to know this cad.
A card you wrote, unsent, sealed by a kiss
is last unread, my eyes close tight, so sad
that the tearstains blot out your words, not his,
but know, my love, waiting would be quite bad.
I must, you know, get wed, and soon, my knight
my fate is pledged to wed without delight.
VII
My fate is pledged to wed without delight…
How your unsent words touched me, dearest mom.
Encumbered by vows sworn with wants not right
The path you chose, you met with much aplomb.
So now, mom, I thirst and will thirst non-stop
to know about the man you loved renounced
and who, it seems, your tryst made you flip-flop.
Abstruse! To swap his love for wealth announced.
Confused, my mind resists attack with rage,
because, at last, prolonged travail has ceased,
for you, and I now freed; unknown outrage.
of lives asunder torn by shame, at least.
With you now dead, you win the cake you baked
but left me to put icing on my slice,
how nice to unravel the life I faked.
I smile, when all the while you paid the price.
But now I know the grounds and why the airs!
Dad left one day, unseen. Mom shed no tears.
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