The Un/Connected Poem by indira babbellapati
The Un/Connected
Lying in the lap of sky
the clouds decide to drift
The infant in the mother's lap
later gathers the mother
in its hands
The trees that bear flower,
the fruits lie at their feet
Resting on his bosom, she
repeatedly longs for him
The earth satiated by rain-puddles
longs for sun to leave her dry
Of, with, in all, how in the end
one looks for the day to be severed...
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4/25/2024 4:00:56 AM # 1.0.0.1119
The infant in the mother's lap later gathers the mother in its hands Storm reverses the roles. Hardships come where unexpected. Help is needed everywhere.