Immortals Poem by anujan raja

IMMORTALS

My father has no death
My mother has no death
Sixty five years have passed
Now I stand before the mirror
And see my father
Looking at me, a smile
Lighting up the face in the mirror
Here I can reach my father
Across the barriers of time
My father, sure, is in the mirror
Where am I?
I stand outside
In front, or behind the mirror?


My mother is the fragrance
Of champaka flowers-
She gathers up the little boy
In her sweet embrace
Half-asleep he breathes in
The soothing aroma
And slips back
Into his baby sleep
In the cocoon of her
Scented bosom
My mother is the fragrance
Of the champaka flowers