Matriarchal

a poem by Roger B Rueda

for Nenita

I had been praying to Him to let
You stay until I had carried some
Of the crosses borne by you for years
For our family you raised your own.

And when I had, it all happened
So suddenly, you left home, a home
Where you got lonely then that he
Had left and set his new home.

But by His grace, I wore then a look
Of pure contentment for your relief
And respite at length, I was witness
To how you suffered in silence.

Your leaving your makeshift home
Was laying all your crosses down
Specially the one your blood soaked
Into, your lungs were fairly weak—
Your room was whooping-filled,
You had a very nasty cough—
I knew you’d leave towards your
New home around which and your
Head and Grandfather’s are haloes.

I knew.  Even you saw a doctor about
That cough, it didn’t gradually heal up.
It is up there that you get your rest.

Now sorrow felt over your leaving me—
And Mother, your daughter—
Envelops me, I am longing
Of your adobo, dinuguan, and paksiw—
Too, your roaring with laughter
And my giving you a kiss. You’d
Hug me tightly to your heart then.

There's nothing like I knew you.