"I long for my mother's bread"
a Darwish poem written in prison
May your tea be strong today. May your heart feel at home. May what makes us One be more plentiful, powerful and available than what divides us.
Limestone statuette of a nursing mother (kourotrophos), Cypriot, 6th century BCE
My Mother
by Mahmoud Darwish
I long for my mother’s bread
My mother’s coffee
Her touch
Childhood memories grow up in me
Day after day
I must be worth my life
At the hour of my death
Worth the tears of my mother.
And if I come back one day
Take me as a veil to your eyelashes
Cover my bones with the grass
Blessed by your footsteps
Bind us together
With a lock of your hair
With a thread that trails from the back of your dress
I might become immortal
Become a God
If I touch the depths of your heart.
If I come back
Use me as wood to feed your fire
As the clothesline on the roof of your house
Without your blessing
I am too weak to stand.
I am old
Give me back the star maps of childhood
So that I
Along with the swallows
Can chart the path
Back to your waiting nest.
Creative Invitation
If, when your body dies, you could go anywhere ~ anywhere your mind has been, any place on Earth you’ve seen or felt, any person’s arms, any landscape, interior or ourside ~ where would you go?
Tell someone you love about it. Start writing with Darwish’s line, “I am old / Give me back…”