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Mother & I

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14/05/2012

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MOTHER AND I … ... A Tribute

He, I hear, is terminally ill…

I rush from a city far

To be with the living god

Odor of life churned

In truth and hard earned.

He, indeed, is terminally ill…

I bear his blast of torpid times

Failing body’s morbid mimes

By his bed but I know the best I’ll be sometime in a future test As he is in my each recall… Limpid, fearless, standing tall Loved, friendly, compassionate Spirit deep, sharp immense.

He now lies terminally ill…

The seer he was is witnessing

In quiet eerie, looks fixed Through nights stretched And lost sleep Resonating of scriptures I read

And It then happened In quick succession

His withdrawal calm The last breath Our wait… The howling silence Death… And cremation. * * *

The news drew the shallow heirs Commiserating, posing, red weird Stooping low, seeming lower With eyes stuck on assets meager

Broaching sly their soft claims

Illiberal, covet strange

Set on matters odd In those hours of pain They trigger brawls

The woman faints of the free-for-all

At the men she'd nurtured On her love, with care

Were clawing now at her remains

As enemies sworn, pitched against

Heartlessly, in sub human ways.

Their game's foiled with some wit

Calibrated drama, deliberately knit

It saddened us Still at the crease

In space secured Convalesce in peace

Mother and I – in rally

Devoted, thankful Succour each, happily. * * * * * *

Etiquetas: Madre · Tributo

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