Vinícius

Painting by Donald Zolan

When she finally saw him,

he was two years old

and was quiet, watching tv

on the sofa as if the whole world

was a shell of silence.

Time and work had blinded her.

(why can't we pay attention to people?)

It was January

when the sun started to melt

her wings.

She tried to deny the evidences

of fate, soaring high once more,

looking for clouds to darken her vision

and tremulous heart.

She didn't want to cry

observing his nights and endless days

of quiet distance.

Was he deaf?

Was he dumb?

Was he?

Can you hear me?

Repeat with me.

Hey there, I am here.

Hellooooooo

He was the only one

living in his life.

When the answer crept towards her,

she knelt down,

pressed her forehead on the ground

and groaned, cursing

the setting sun and the gods.

Life sat down

and waited for her strength.

Leaves fell,

flowers bloomed and withered,

rain flooded her hope.

She learnt him

and learnt with him

how to fish courage

and extract force from the winds.

For me she is a winner

and if you ask me:

would you ever take your hat off to anybody?

I would always say:

yes, to that woman who learnt

how to be a mother again.

Karla Bardanza

For J and V

“Autism, is part of my child, it's not everything he is. My child is so much more than a diagnosis.”
― Sandra L Coelho, The World According to August - One Good Friend

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2012