Amma
My mother was full of natural grace,
Strong, beautiful dynamic pace,
Moulded her children with iron hands,
Not like footprints on seashore sands.
Like four seasons of the year,
Changed her moods without fear,
Protected her creations from heat or rain,
No storm could discourage or make her vain.
Like a hawk she watched us grow,
Above the clouds infinity soar,
Invisible but constantly alert,
Empowered her children in every breath.
Such humility with such strength,
Exemplary precedence in true sense,
Stood her apart in beautiful blend,
Pragmatic wisdom and commonsense.
I bow down to her before anyone else,
Forgive me God,she is the Universe in my cells,
Now that I am bereft of her human presence,
Like Almighty her love I treasure in eternal sense .
Jyotirmaya Thakur
Writer
UK
