Dedicated.

This blog, Mother Fiction, is dedicated to my mother's stories and poems. While I loved posting them on my own blog, I feel that they deserve their own space. I hope you agree. 

Please feel free to leave comments as I know she would love feedback and criticism. 

And now...

A Deserted Island

But we are all deserted islands...

If I gave up my busy life

And decided to get away,

I’d retreat to my deserted island

Where’s there’s only sunny days.

I would take with me a Bible

Because they always say

In it are the correct answers

To all life’s Malays.

But how would I feel compassion

For the world’s despair

Sitting on that white sandy beach,

The sun bleaching white my hair?

I could take a photo album

Of my family and friends.

You know, the ones who never call

Or write letters of amends.

But I wouldn’t have to see them

On that endless shore,

Wouldn’t be concerned with emailing

Or texting anymore.

My memories would fade

Like their pictures in the heat.

I would have my new family to think of-

Sea gulls and geckos, and crabs that I meet.

Perhaps I would take a case of wine

And just one crystal glass

To sip under a rock at dusk

When a lazy day is passed.

Or when contemplating life beneath the silver moon

With a bottle cooling placidly in the blue lagoon.

And when I was done  

With those empty soldiers of brew

I could send out messages of hope

To make friendships anew.

But we are all deserted islands

Why take anything on the trip?

We are born alone, we die alone,

All of us touched by death’s grip.

It’s what we do in between

That marks where real life abounds.

Interacting with strangers

Loving those we have found.

You can visit other deserted islands

To touch other self-centered hearts.

Stick your finger in the waters of caring

And watch the ripple grow from your start.