My Mother
I had a mythological tree
Instead of having branches and leaves
She had arms and hands smeared with care and love
In her warm lap I used to laugh
Used to get shadow and cool breeze
In her eyes I saw kindness
And heard songs of compassion in her voice
Her face was like a piece of art
I used to rush back home
As she was the embodiment of peace
She is no more
No, I am wrong
She is always here like a shadow of light
Or she is in the scent of soil around
Surrounding me from all sides
And I see her every day in the mirror of my soul.
Today she flew down like an angel
And sat beside me like my own little daughter
While she wiped out my cheeks and chin
She laughed kidding me like a naughty girl
As I was in tearful eyes remembering her .
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