Thursday, August 18, 2011

mother

Just after the sweltering heatwave,
You brought the clouded afternoon,
And made me soothed
Helping my tired, sweaty soul;

O how many times
You, the grand ol' banyan,
Shaded me from the sultry noon;

I just try
To gather as far as I can
Much like a silkworm,
Weaving and weaving
All that you left for me...

I discover,nonetheless,
How many seeds failed to grow up to become plants-
Fulfilled,
Despite the earth-so moist and fertile!

No comments:

Post a Comment

The State Funeral

At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut,  She could not have spoken for  The rare award,  The police have done the th...