When My Baby Was Brought Home Poem by Pankajam Kottarath

The white rose in the painted mud pot
in the front porch
first bud of it in half bloom
smiles pleasantly, infant-like;

The caged parrot
moves inside round and round
dances in rhythmic steps
tilting its head to the sides
red bill pointed downwards
cage sways like a cradle;

The playful cub in the backyard
jumping around, its body curved
into the shape of an arch
pauses for a while, turns back,
as if beckoned by its mother;

The croton plants swinging
in the breeze like festooned fans
in ancient kings' courts, halt for a while,
for a speck of the mood;

Breeze blowing takes a short break
not to leave out on the blissful scene;
The gentle waves gurgling in the lake nearby
slow down for a stealing look.

All this at the sight of the bundle of joy
when my baby was brought home.