Completed

To my mother, poet Anne Atik
(27 August 1932-26 February 2021)

Now the living is complete
not so much a line stretched to its finish
as a circle infinite, along whose rim
I can take a walk and stop 
to contemplate the sights you saw
as you went about living
loud, and strong, each moment of yours
grasped from beyond your mereness
and from deep within your breathing self

Not complete ever yet over,
never over quite, yet completed
your voice breathes into mine 
as I struggle to find where I begin
I am your daughter 
who feels things, as you did,
and by being like you I too see the view
you saw, wider than anything either you or I can be
I, too, am just another being imbued

with asking 

[Paris, 14-15 March 2021]

© Noga Arikha