Mother
The night, the raven dark night,
Like a mother, touches the soul,
Comforts with her smile,
And our burning, teared face,
Finds solace.
Silence is her strength,
In which the fevered, shivering mind,
Feels her voice, but does not hear,
Imagining her comforting words,
Like the baby, clings to the bosom,
and the pain disappears,
When the gash that pains is too deep,
A gash that makes your eyes burn,
You stand like a fallen toddler,
And the silence is even deeper,
The sound from our soul, just a moan,
Her tears become a reflection,
Our pain just amplified,
Silently, she holds our hand,
Knowing she can't ease the Pain,
Her dark shawl, shuts out the light,
As the warmth seethes through.
I drift away, a child riding her magical wings,
Is that her light, the light that bedazzles,
Or is that the supreme, in all his glory,
Are they different, or are they the same,
Then the blissful feeling sets in.
Sandeep Bidani
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