On My Mother's Demise., -To The Soul Of Sabita Ray Poem by Subrata Ray

The earth recedes next to nothing,
As the sky opened its passage to heaven,
With unborn silence of eternal Brahman,
At the departure of my cozy, breezy, paradise.

Henceforth, waif I am, -a room- less, -vagabond,
Nothing to look forward for a shelter,
No magnetic touch upon a lap, and soothing delight,
But empty -void, -spreading beyond life's bay.

Melancholy-born orchestra tunes the cry of pathos,
My identity's Himalaya has passed away,
And with utter bankruptcy haggardly I stumble,
For no response would come, with my call, -Maa, Maa!