OLDEST MEMORY
It’s as if I were born this moment.
My creation:
Early morning, first light
shines on my mother
in the living room.
She prepares our new house
as the house prepares me.
No existence before, only nothingness
like white noise
replaced by a sudden awareness
as if looking through a telescope
and gently focusing
a blurry image into recognition:
a world of green walls,
a world so new it smells
of fresh paint.
And from somewhere
the deep rumble of a furnace
like the sound of my life being switched on,
or the voice of God
welcoming me to the world.
© Kathryn de Leon
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