My Mother
Like secret water
hidden inside the stone
love of my mother flows
unconditionally with life at stake
for her depth and unbridgeable width
I need not go to any sea
in search of my existence.
A knock at the soft corner of her heart
and she hands with care
plentitude of bliss and brimming affection.
with colours of unknown flowers
these divine elements lie
folded in my hands
with many-spendoured features of life.
As I feel them,
they speak to me gently
in the nectar-filled voices
of the deciphered scripts,
unknown alphabets.
Unfolding before me
like rare flowers
the loose hanging end of her saree
carries the essence of a thousand hopes,
and flows in me
like a subterranean river.
On her tender face
hangs a vast canvas of mercy;
over whelms me
with its magic spell of smiles,
from a stiring of promising words
like a chorale in some symphony
or a wet water course in a desert.
Yes, her cherished hands
always reveal a wandering,
an extending far and wide
a flow of confidence
that bursts with scent of progress
every moment.
Like an invincible bird
like a heap of vivid flower
Like a sea that never overflows
her magnanimity heart
seems like a boundless sky itself.
Her infinite faith on god overhead
and herself, is that experience
creating new worlds for me .
Copyright © Neelamani Sutar | Year Posted 2015
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