"Song of August" #StoryOfEmotions

Embracing the shadows,
my father
looked at the bottom of deep waters
behind his eyelids,
leaving the scent of undelivered letters and the roughness of dry cloth on his fingertips.

Embracing the shadows,
my mother
looked at the sky over the ruined city
beyond the gray,
while the voice of a baby who would not stop crying rang out like a bell telling her to live.

I, the daughter,
do not know the era of storms,
but
through the depth of my father's silence
and the sorrow in my mother's wrinkles,
I came to know that time.

My grandchild, born in August,
does not yet know words,
but
laughs at the wind skimming the water's surface,
and after failing to catch the light at the morning window,
reaches out to grasp it again.
Those tiny hands
are shaped,
again and again,to believe in the sky.

Even though the shadows
should have gone far away by now,
nameless bones
and voices that never returned
still drift through the August sky.

And so,
we pray:
that these soft palms
will never again grasp cold iron,
that this blue sky
will never again be torn red.

Oh wind, carry the message,
oh waves, bear it along,
the song that lulls the shadows to sleep,
to the shores of the future.

I am participating in this project by Miwakarasu-san.
Thank you for your support.

#StoryOfEmotions #ThirdWeekSorrow #MiwakarasuSan #AugustIndependentProject #Poetry
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