Childhood dreams of the sad organ.
Further than this moment, a sad organ plays
Behind it, the sorceress
Each word sang with such tone
Throat closes, and eyes filled with tears.
It almost feels like is not real
That my blood is freezing, and I'm inconsolable
I sink on the waves while the enchantress keeps on her song
Self-destructing, but grasping all our souls in her palm.
Once I traveled miles to cry, it could never go back
This energy imparted sentiments
And dunes turned into forests.
Foolish of me to believe those emotions would remain untouched.
Like a river runs through the moonlight
Walks up to the clouds in her shape
While she continues to kiss us on the forehead with her words
Our egos crushed for good, while I am glad
They never were worth protecting.
I'll give myself to the fire always
To keep my queen rightfully on the throne
So often over-kind soul, love, honey
To keep listening to her siren song and organ forever
Sweet mother.
Sunk in my aspirations and tribulations, I took a minute to deposit these words in the form of a poem dedicated to my mother. When I was a kid, she used to have an organ, and she would play it and sing for me, mostly songs for children, but I remember thinking that her way of interpreting those songs would always make me want to cry, I don't know why.
Later, we had to move and she sold her organ because we were lacking money, although she kept on singing to me and my sister. It feels like those days are so far in the past, buried in my memories. I dream about listening to her songs and organ again, so I remain faithful in my will to make it happen.
I send regards to all Hive Poets and everybody in general, lots of love.
Cesar.
(Source of the image used: https://pixabay.com/es/photos/piano-organo-m%c3%basica-instrumento-235207/)