Daughter

Thumbnail image reverently lifted from Island: a story of the Galápagos by Jason Chin

So I’m finally alone, after resisting it all day, all day. It hurts too much. Hurts to much to go on. I’m sorry for my failure of heart. I forgot how much it can hurt. I forgot how much this can hurt.

I know it’s better to be alone in times like these. I know that I’ve arranged to be alone in times like these. Still I feel like it’s some kind of sign that I am diseased.

You are my one and only love. Splashed into all these separate years. And how can I ever find all the pieces, lost for so many years? It’s all a bit hard I admit. Much harder than I remembered it.

You are my one and only love. You’ve been underground for years, my daughter. You never quite bloomed, you never came to the surface, daughter. Your heart is sweet and opening like a rose. Your heart is opening like a rose.

How long have you been gone? How long have I been searching for you? I don’t know, it’s like waking from a dream, where nothing is what it seemed. it’s like waking up from a long spell, and it turns out everything is well.

Now that I’ve found you it’s almost worse than losing you the first time. I don’t know how to hold you daughter, it’s almost worse than losing you the first time.

I don’t know how to hold you, daughter, all I know is that I want to. I don’t know how to give you water, all I know is I want you to grow big and strong.

Mother, I know you want me to be strong, and Mother, I hear your song. Mother, don’t you worry, I’ve been here all along.

Never really gone, I’ve been here all along. I’ve just been in hiding, just been in the rind and the bark, but now I’ve come to the surface. And we can take it slow. I’ve come to the surface, and I am going to grow.

Now I’ve come back to you, Mother, and I’m going to grow like a rose.