A Deep Longing – My Mother’s Seed

When the early morning breeze brushes against my window,
Strangely, it’s my heart that trembles first.
As I listen to the rustling leaves falling,
Memories of passing seasons and faces come to mind.

These days, my sleep is not deep.
I dream so much,
And the boundaries between sleeping and waking blur
Until I’m not quite sure where I am.
Even after I wake, my body feels heavy—
As if an old fatigue has settled deep in my bones.

Suddenly,
I wonder if this is not just simple tiredness,
But the lingering longing
That remains somewhere in my heart.

Every day, I see my mother.
As the years go by,
She lives each day with smaller and gentler gestures.
Sometimes, as I try to amuse her,
I feel like a child myself.

When I look at my mother,
My heart aches for no reason.
There’s a longing I can’t explain—
A longing woven from the years and memories
That quietly settles in a corner of my heart.

I think my mother, too,
Carried her own unresolved longing all her life.
Perhaps, in the name of love,
That longing slowly accumulated over time.

Love is
Something so hard to keep going
On one person’s strength alone.
Only when hearts meet and
The links of longing connect
Does it truly last—
This, I’ve learned from my mother.

Even today,
My mother is quietly
Scattering the seeds of her longing
Into the world.

And from those seeds,
I feel another love and longing
Growing in my own heart.

Thank you.