The Tale Of My Birth - Poem by Anita Sharma
It is the awakening.
After long dreamless sleep,
my mother has lot to explain,
in labor pains, aunt and her,
passing by the dark thick shinny woods,
my time has come to born! ! !
Through endless cycles of night and day,
of heat and cold, my mother thought
to take a walk to wee wee,
and here i have born, ,
under evergreen blackberry,
eventually my mother is out of labor,
auntie welcomed, teeny little niece.
horseman passes by and threw a cloth,
from wooden frame hanging,
behind the young horse.
My birth is surrounding with deep,
dark and lovely woods.
unremembered covet as is my youth.
I have lived for a thousand jiffy,
as welcomes by woods and wild critters,
many years after would remind the tale of agony,
mother had while birthing me.
have passed for concern over,
such trivial matters.
I remember the long have been,
teased as Mowgli in federation
without rig outs and fine fabric,
I was in my middle girlhood years,
then have kins one after another,
A time when almost everything was lost.
This was the time of the great fire of anxiety and loneliness.
The fire of agony and vulnerability that almost consumed me at 27.
Bright white flames burned down,
from the heavens and in an instant,
scarred my rugged flesh,
my beautiful heart burned down in isolation
Many of those around me perished in anger and hatred,
I can no longer snivel,
those who have content before me.
It has been too long and in,
that time I have recovered,
from my injuries and the disease that followed.
I am again strong and tower,
over the youth that surrounds me,
two young ones of in alliance and espousal,
two young ones of busy in federation years.
Now I must, concentrate on drinking
in the nutrients that the mother and father,
provides me in benedictions,
as I watch over the shrinking forest.
The past is the past
and the recoil winter
is slowly fading away,
now I have felt the long
rays of the sun warming
like paternal and maternal,
my limbs once again and I have
awakened to a new world,
a world of resumption,
a world of hope and joy,
My trunk is enduring and,
my pollen will soon fill the air
covering the woods,
in a yellow green buff.
New life will come as coconut Brussels
now i shall, stand silent watch the bliss........
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