I reach  to you the bag of my wishes

I long for my cup of fulfillment


my growing lies in your hands

my learning rests in your wisdom 


I reach to you the vision of my language

to find hold in your hands 



how am I supposed to go

without food

how shall I be able to love

without your hold

how shall I speak without your words 


I reach to you  my hand,

which is wrapped by the terror of fear 

I present to  you my vision - mother

I leave you with  my gratitude

so that 

I am able to go my way 


poem written 2012

reportage / documentary