
Some memories are like small towns on country roads;
once well travelled, now enigmas signifying an interstate exit.
Sister reminded me Mom’s favorite perfume was Faberge’s Tigress.
Dad bought her Tigress every Christmas.
Tigress: the sleek bottle containing the amber liquid crowned with a tiger skin stopper.
Unconscious memories no longer a mystery.
“Comprehend without your head
and without your ears, listen
to noiseless, un-mouthed words.”[1]
My mother was a Tigress – that was no mask.
She comprehended the noiseless, un-mouthed words of others.
Listening without her head and ears she always saw the truth behind other’s masks.
No matter how deep it cut-to-the-bone she always spoke her truth.
See suffered no fools.
And she always gave herself away for the benefit of others.
Across time and space I see you.
I embrace you.
I love you Tigress for all you did and hoped for me.
Namaste.
Written while listening to Caetano Veloso singing Cucurrucucu Paloma en Vivo inspired by the lyrics translated from Portuguese to English.
[1]A quote from Attar’s poem The Conference of the Birds, translated by Shole Wolpe