A face or a mask?
Which one tells the truth I ask.
What schemes and works on the inside?
How much is revealed and how much we hide?
How much can the naked eye see?
What proportion of reality?
A soothing whisper to my soul.
His face makes me feel whole.
Deepens the cracks of my heartbreak.
Bringing back the crazy crippling ache.
A face I see with my eyes closed.
Trying to stay clam and composed.
Teaming crowds on the street
That’s the one my eyes thirst to meet
With open arms, come to me and greet
And carry me off my feet.
But the face is invisible
The presence just beyond reach- nearly imperceptible.
What lay behind those expressions?
Those funny faces and exaggerations?
That face could light up the darkest of spaces
How did it miss all the safe places?
Why could I not look behind the mask?
Being his Mum, it couldn’t have been that tricky a task.
Now the face is the screensaver on my phone,
It’s my watch, my diary and my home.
I live in it and it lives in me in every way.
It’s my umbrella on a rainy day.
It is the constant that helps me maintain
The will to sing and dance in the rain.