Wings of Warmth
"Mother,
You are my heartbeat
and I'm your lifeline,
we both are 'one',
as an inseparable hue of purity,
smeared upon the sacrosanct lotus..."
As you cradle
those sleepless stars,
swirling in my
insomniac flurry ink,
lulling me to
honeydew-soaked
slumber and
letting these
unicorn-lights
twinkle within every
pearlescent pulse,
my heart flies
across gentle
wonderlands of
fairy-knitted dreams,
believing in
seraphic miracles.
Although, I may
have been
drenched in
cavernous
bloodstorms and
my heart bleeds
russet hail, but,
you will always
heal my hauntings
with your
calendula-glazed
peridot symphonies,
forever shielding
my saffron
innocence within
your womb
of compassion,
soft like
creamy cotton,
and periwinkle-rosy
flickers of love.
I've been blessed
with the crimson-gold
warmth of a
motherly sunflower,
amidst this
cold autumnal
rain of bitter flakes
and spiced leaves.
You are my
white-lotus-winged
mermaid, a
featherless angel,
and this
watercolor child
will always draw
peony-incensed
gardens, carrying
the fruity fragrance
of maternal croons.
This lifetime
will incessantly
echo with nascent
harp's harmonies,
of a daffodil-
daughter's melody
for her spring-
scented mother,
for, it's the
only rare truth,
that has been
revealed amongst
onyx blades,
scattered across these
vulturous skies.
I never dream to
fathom those
lavender beaches
of snowy sonnets,
without the
cashmere caress
of your sheen
cinnamon shawl,
that gives me relief
from aching
frostbites,
rewarded by
this wistful world,
immersed in apathy.
I forevermore
wish to be that
last 'princess petal',
that remains
eternally etched
to the selfless
nurturing of your
pinkish throne.
Copyright ©
Hiya Sharma
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