Motherhood Poem by Kakoli Choudhury

Shielding the rush of dust,
She fosters the seasons,
Wombing deep in the chest
With blood and vine.

Her presence inflates
Becoming the Healer's Tree
To soothe the woes of rust,
World thrusted upon us.

As a curtain, she stands
Rearing the wind of fettle,
Beckoning traces of light
Yet not too bright.

She muses the air
With her versions of truth,
Of life, the Keeper
We turn in and around.

Dwelling place of child,
A heavenly shower, so warm.
She sings lullaby of manna words
That appeals throughout time.

Kakoli Choudhury
©®