Mother & I

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…

... 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.   *   *   *      *   *   *