Mother and Son

By Manan Sheel

He put his head in his mother’s lap,
closed his eyes, and was lost.

He felt a velvety, comforting
restfulness begin to spread
behind his eyelids, and over his body.

He evaporated, and was in the womb
once again. In that musical womb,
where he was, before the duality of identity.

His mother’s hand, caressing his hair,
felt to him like something he had experienced
when the ocean breeze touched him—but more intimate.

He lost his name then, and was lost to everyone.
Only his mother knew where he was in those moments…