The curtain in my room is pale yellow,
With golden leaves on it,
My mother lived in this room for a little while,
And left a little bit of her.
She told me, she loved the curtain,
And used to gaze at the leaves,
And ponder about every one in her life,
Each leaf reminded her of each one of her beloved ones.
She prayed for them,
Uttering each and every name,
Each and every person precious in her life,
And in the end,
The names were countless!
The curtain still hangs there.
Thanks, Siddartha! This poem came from my heart when I thought about my Mom. She was a spiritual woman. It's a true story.
love and life (your topics) ......all in a curtain! and in a very fine Free Verse! The names were countless! .......that's a LOT of names! ! to MyPoemList. bri :) a true story?
Yes, Bri, this is a true story. My Mother came where I live now, and stayed for a few days. She was very spiritual, and used to pray for not only her own children, but everyone she knew, and also for people she didn't know. Thanks for asking, and leaving beautiful comments. Many many thanks for including in your favourite poem-list.
Yes, Bri, it's my true story. My Mother came where I live now, and stayed with me for a few weeks. She was very spiritual, and prayed for not only her own children, but everyone she knew, and she didn't know. Thanks for your comments, and including this poem to your favourite list.
In mother's life in family each and every person is precious. Mother prays for goodness of all members. This is very amazingly penned.10
Thank you so much for your inspiring comment. This was my mother. But I know, this is true for all mothers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
banamala, this poem shall now be entered, by me, into my July 2018 showcase. thanks. bri :) p.s. i will send you a note to your Inbox on PH, explaining something about my usually-monthly showcases.
Thanks, Bri. You are very kind.