Dearest Mother, I cry tonight,
for I miss you with all my might.
Plucked by my restless feet from where I was born,
I was not sent but I chose to run.
The thread that ties me to you is pulled, strung,
painfully stretched but never torn.
A faraway song calls to me,
above the sky, leaping through the sea.
Singing louder until I reach
your outstretched hand upon the beach.
Mamá, did you cry?
When you and your mother
bid each other goodbye?
And mamá, did you cry again?
The second, third, and fourth
time, and time again?
I might more than just a child, but,
Dearest Mother, I cried that night.