To My Mother

Dear mother, I lost you a long time ago, and over the years fervent feeling of gratitude accumulated layer by layer in my heart unexpressed, I write now, hoping it will reach you where you are. When we got uprooted from our native place, the anchoring alcove for the driftwood you made for me with copious care, provided a sanguine shelter of protection, so no surging storm of distress I faced, the strewn shards of life from debris I could gather. In torrent of turmoil when the family was afloat, you toiled so very hard day and night to once again grow our ravaged roots in an alien pasture. To my deprived uncertain life adrift, you gave a gift, a secured nest, from where I spread my wings in seamless sky of future. I flew high in the cover of your protective wings, wild winds couldn’t blow away my soaring aspirations. In your everlasting enveloping shadow I live even today with your undying love, memory immortalizes. I still feel the touch of your affectionate hands, that sculpted me and made me what I am today. You used to tell me that angels live in heaven, and with celestial pristine beauty they glow as the sparkling stars in the far away milky way, but I know they often descend on earth, for I’ve seen the radiant aura of your heart as appealing as the aurora of angel’s face. You left me for your new home decades ago, but when in the dismal ebony night I walk the last mile, see the northern star glisten, I know you shine as the star in heaven with the angels to guide me to the final destination, where by your side I will once again find me, your loving son.