The Mother Poem by Deb Panda

Belonged to a space of galaxies-
I could rarely dreamt of-
With this tiny heart to face,
To all richest treasure and hope.
Ever in a selfless inclination,
Her thought leans to suffers,
And nothingness of a down-
Has never diverged for another.
Noblest and holiest place of palaces-
To park a pious love,
From all plentitude,
Where no impurity seems to tarnish,
The sun to commit and to lead.
In last hours of salutation-
What men have feared for?
Towards a creation into pen,
That blends as prize and offer.