To a Woman Now Gone
after Kotaro Takamura
Sparrows tap at the window glass, and I stir.
Beside me your gloxinia blossoms, as if you were here.
And all my senses suddenly awaken to a morning breeze
Wafting in at 5 a.m. with your fragrant ease.
White sheets flung off, I stretch my arms in the light,
In this morning sunshine that is your smile.
Your whisper in me asks, how will this day be unfolding?
You stand and watch me, all-seeing, all-knowing.
As if I have become a child;
As if you have become a mother, mine.
Here still, here still.
You have become everything, what moves, what fills.
And though I am the least worthy of your grace,
Here I am – by you surrounded, enfolded, embraced.