When it comes to love, humans prefer exclusivity. Yet, ‘true love’ must be shared.
As we journey on mother earth, we begin our ascent to 'true love' from a selfish perspective to an altruistic projection.
In early life, I was the recipient of my mom's immense affection. "La prima cosa bella della mia vita,'' "The first beautiful thing in my life,' she told me once in confidence.
Later on, when seeing my younger sibling cuddling with her, I uttered in Sicilian dialect, "Vattinni babbu, jo accucciu a mamma!" "Go away, you fool, I cuddle with mom!"
If there was anyone whom I watched setting an example of how to love, it was my mom. Pushed away and growing up alone at the tender age of 8, she never gave up on love. Family, friends, neighbors, visitors, strangers, all were embraced by her immense capacity to open her heart. She did not expect anything in return.
The following poem is dedicated to all those who search for love and get pushed away.
Remembrances of Being Loved
In tender years
On the stool
Washing dishes
Alone
With tenuous soul
Comes the first beautiful thing
No more alone
With eyes full of joy
'Go away, fool
I cuddle
Mom’
Together smiling
With anxious heart
Without the stool
Washing the laundry
With trembling body
Without knowing
Throwing the soap
Love
Hurled
Love
Shunned
Looking
To curl up
More and more tightly
Pushed away
Without will
Scooching
Sought
Affection
Missed
Love
Blossomed
In Cerca di Essere Amato
Con gli anni teneri
Sul sgabello
Lavi i piatti
Sola
Con l’anima tenue
Arriva
La prima cosa bella
Non piu’ sola
Con gli occhi ricchi di gioia
‘Vattinni babbu
Jo accucciu
A mamma!’
Sorridi in compagnia
Col corpo tremante
Senza sapere
Scagli il sapone
Amore
Scaraventato
Amore
Scansato
Cerchi l’accuccio
Reciclato
Sempre piu’ stretto
Spinto dalle gambe
Senza voglia
Accuccio
Cercato
Affetto
Bocciato
Amore
Sbocciato
