Xo'jamiyorova Gulmira
By: Xo’jamiyorova Gulmira
The distant breath of war,
Did not spare a remote village afar.
Even the lonely mother in that distant land,
Was not spared; her only son was called to stand.
The boy was still young, in his prime,
Her sole support, her son, her one lifeline.
But now, no matter what may come,
He must go to war, brave and strong for the homeland.
She broke a piece of bread for him, stroked his head,
With trembling hands, she prayed and said,
Murmuring a wish as her heart did implore,
“God, keep my son in Your care, evermore!”
In the house filled with countless memories,
The young man cast one last tearful glance.
And the mother, sad, helpless and frail,
Watched her son, unable to prevail.
The war ravaged the world, leaving many in despair,
It made many weep and wait in prayer.
Millions of hearts it did deeply shake,
While sleepless mothers stayed awake.
Children longed for their fathers each day,
Rushing to the door at every knock, eager and gay.
Women kept busy with chores as a disguise,
Peering down the road, hope in their eyes…
Days, months, and years passed by,
But still no news of her son, though she did try.
Winds of longing pierced the mother’s soul,
Her eyes fixed on the path, taking their toll…
Years later, the breath of war ceased,
The long-awaited time finally brought peace.
It felt as though the world was split in two,
The village rushed to the streets, filled with hope anew.
The mother couldn’t contain her joy,
She rushed to meet the returning convoy.
Suddenly, she remembered something, went back home,
And brought out the coat meant for her son alone.
Some crawled in from afar, barely alive,
Some leaned on canes, trying to survive.
Others hugged their mothers with one arm,
While others had their heads wrapped from harm.
The mother, too, searched for her beloved son,
Desperate among the crowd, her eyes scanned each one.
Like an angel, with tears streaming down,
She asked everyone, with a painful frown:
“Where is my dear son, why does he not come?
Is he delayed, perhaps something made him numb?
Does he not know how much I miss him?
Or did he tire, lost in deserts grim?
Tell him to come, even if he’s broken,
If his legs are gone, I’ll carry him with devotion.
If his hands are lost, that’s alright,
I’ll feed him myself, day and night.
Oh fleeting life, have mercy on me,
Return my son, oh heavens, set him free.
Where shall I seek salvation now?
I even sewed a coat for him, somehow.
If life demands it, I’ll give mine away,
If he’s lost much blood, take mine, I’ll repay.
My heart’s healing balm, my soul’s remedy,
Let me see my son, my joy, my destiny.”
The mother said these words and fell to her knees,
Her tearful eyes still searching the breeze.
Tears fell drop by drop onto the earth,
Oh, how mournful, her eyes full of dearth.
There are many questions, yet no answers at hand,
Everyone knows their own burden and strand.
Separation and longing are thorns of pain,
The mother’s words pierce every heart, in vain.
Now, the sun sets, casting a red glow,
The mother hasn’t moved, waiting in sorrow.
She stands still, gazing at one single spot,
Longing for her son, swallowing the pain in her thought…
Months turn into years, passing quickly by,
No news, no sound, just a silent cry.
She rests her head on her knees, her heart undone,
The mother’s soul—forever gone.
Drowned in grief, though no one can tell,
Longing, suffering, pain, sorrow—she felt it all.
Her final tear fell, frozen in stillness,
The mourning mother’s body now lifeless.
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