Mother Of A Missing Son

Her eyes, ever-awake,
in wait,
to reflect a certain image,
lost its sheen
and turned into stones
which sprout tears
that never cease to
roll down her wrinkled cheeks.

Her arms tremble with the
burden of age, remain stretched
to embrace the missing part
of her existence.

Her heart ails with the fear
that she will be sent
on the journey of eternity
without someone to console
through goodbye whispers.

How long will she catch
the glimpses of a mirage
but her dear son?
How long an empty bosom
will mock her futile hopes?

Hope, the shine of her eyes
will rise like a new dawn
to soothe her weary self
right till she breathes her last.
Hope, she will never depart
with a heavy heart.