Will You Not Walk With Me?

My eyes can't see straight
and my hands tremble along
with the shaking of my breath.
I don't cry much. I am a quiet griever.

I don't know how to cope with this situation.
I don’t know what to do or where to go.
I am feeling empty from her.
I won’t know the touch of her hands on my face,
the very touch I trust with my body and soul,
the only touch that takes all the pains
and gives all the comforts of the world.

I am already missing you, woman.
I am already there.
I am already there, Maman.¹
I am scared, oh, so scared, Maman.

Will you not walk with me
when the lights grow dim
and the heart is cut
to the ribbons of sorrow?

Will you not walk with me?

¹Mother