Waiting.

A look at what a Mother must always endure, childbirth is not the only pain she goes through for her children.

Chaos heard from all around her, bustling people, shoes screeching on polished marble floors and chatter, albeit whispers that are in bed with stares, she had become used to it. What to do now, where to go, how to hide? Clever men share swords and jibes for weeks on end, Malay versus Carter, the amendments, Europe over and over again little women in tight skirts running up and down aisles with stacks of green paper telling tales of old.

One has to scoff at tradition, like every situation is the same, a murder over a hundred years ago can't negate why we do what we do today. Yet precedent is the ruler of the land is it not? Told that the law is reason free from passion, good old Aristotle I wonder how he would fair today, probably stuffed into some unknown column in a blog that no one reads.

Then here we are, sitting comfortably on wood that has sat many over the years. Covered merely by arms and thin wool, watching as I've always watched, unable to control, help or let go. I hate the colour orange, I hate it, even now that it covers the most precious gem I have, tears well and glisten against the brightness of outside, the place I must go again, yet he never will, be strong my darling boy, my murderer, my son.

Author's Note

A short piece, I write with the purpose to share a story.

Reviews

[Sue Ellen Walker-Koenig]

No, "They" would simply lock Aristotle up, Copernicus may serve "Their" purpose, of an order "they" would like to sell. Definitely Galileo would have been a yes man, funding and all, but behind the scenes.
Basically "they" sell everyone lies and guess what, everyone is buying. Good write.
Truly if your Son passed, my deepest sympathy.
INTUITUS

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Thank you INTUITUS for the review, no I don't have a son, just merely my interpretation of a Mothers complexity.

[Coyote Poetry]

A beautiful photo and story. Last lines made me desire more.
"I hate it, even now that it covers the most precious gem I have, tears well and glisten against the brightness of outside, the place I must go again, yet he never will, be strong my darling boy, my murderer, my son."
Thank you for sharing the amazing poetry my friend.
Coyote

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Thank you Coyote.

[Lyn Anderson]

This gave me goosebumps. And if there was a comma out of place, I was too busy reading to notice:)

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Thank you KL x

[Sami Khalil]

Orange covers her most precious gem which is her murderer son and when she sits in the same which other people have sat before with their imprisoned loved ones. A very heartbreaking story and a reality indeed from chidbirth and into his growing up... Excellent...:)..........

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Thank you Sami x

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome...:).........................