792. Mother 291208 Poem by Raman Savithiri

(Living in Kuwait a parched land in middle-east desert, just for money sake, where people float around, where I could hardly find any relations with true love, if I want to taste pure love I contact my mother living in India. Her voice itself is enough to bring bliss into my heart.)

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She is the only
Window of my dark selfish room
Without which I can never assume
The sky of unconditional affection!

She is the only
Candle that melts and burns ever
Till her life on earth gets over
To alter my gloomy days brighter!

She is the only one
Having broader heart to pardon
My thousands of blunders done
But to cherish my value even one!

She is the only one
Having a mind that won’t calculate
Things from her hands immaculate
Surpassing even my life-mate!

She is the only one
Who wishes always my prosperity
Who can never bear my scarcity
Spending her days in austerity!

She is the only one
Who Blooms in my bliss
Withers away in my distress
Waving petal hands to bless!

She is the only
Window of my dark stinky cell
Through which breeze with smell
Of pure love flows to distil! 291208