'Holding My Father's Hand' Poem by Pushpinder Kaur

Holding my Father's hand
As I lie on my mother's bed
In the silent communication-
I feel, I am communicating
The gentle, yet, firm touch of my Father's hand to my mom.

Being in her bed
is like being in her lap...
I can feel her breathe, turn and move.
Every memory of her flows like a river on the mind's map.

It means a world of tranquility, peace and calm
healing every nook of the heart with a magical balm.

Mustn't she be very happy
To see me beside my Dad?
This epic journey
that I could undertake after an eternity
threatens to disappear in a jiffy

But the mind shall pull every string
to make this last for long
In my mind's eye...
And the unseen, untouched, and the unreachable treasure trove.

Pushpinder Kaur29.6.19