I saw you mother
grow out of your silver hair and painful knees
to scale those seventy-five years
that you had left behind,
to don a frilly frock and
squabble with your little brother
over your favourite rag doll or
those unripe mangoes, jealously guarded,
while your mother was away attending to domestic things.
I heard music,
Sweeter than any heard ever before,
as your voice cadenced around memories
of your childhood secretly held
over seventy lost Springs.
I saw you, Mother,
rise out of your tired body
-slightly hunched with cares of age-
To your alabaster beauty;
Tall and graceful;
To greet your sibling
and rejoice in his joys.
And, maybe, playfully,
to ruffle his well groomed grey hair;
As you did seventy springs ago;
to watch his head move away in mock irritation.
Mother,
I loved the smile
that played on your lips
and rippled through your words as
they left you to hold us spellbound.
Your wrinkles were no more;
Your face alight with a beauty that
even Venus envied.
Age left you untouched
as you spoke childlike
of the afternoons of escapes into
muddy water puddles
your little brother running after you.
I saw today,
your invisible wand
that you used to make me, and
smoothen the fears away from my life.
Sad, wishful and heartfelt. Reminds me of my own mother who died back home a long time ago. Great poem Mohabeer Beeharry
There is nothing better than seeing the ones you lobe happy. A great poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A lovely tribute to a mother who still remembers and feels. Read mine - Mother, Dear O Mother Dear - Adeline