Ode to Mother*

Ode To Mother*

There Canst never be any end
To eulogise Thee,
Mother, as i always see
You, appearing to me,
In varied forms and shapes,
In prose, poems, lyrics,
In sublime feels, Venus like,
Purely Oceanic,

There Canst ever be
Any end to thy praise,
Nay, for i have passed
My transient nights and days,
Given to Thee,

Mother,
To thy eyes,
Ever benign,
Ever forgiving,
Ever static,
Ever gyrating,
Ever still,
Ever motionless,

Mother,
How everywhere
Your all encompassing kindness,
How numbs me , calms me,
Once ,
As me can see,
Botticelli,
As Thou held,
Way back a few centuries hence,

How Thou appeared,
As fresco ,
Painted with Thy bless,

What hands, what fingers,
What colors, what a dappled,
What a pied thing,

O You, the Ever enchanting,

Keep Thou,
Me just at thy feet,
Now that I find Thee,
At every corner of the roads,
Lanes, streets.

(*Note: loosely based on a painting as attached, by Sandro Botticelli, 1445-1510, courtesy: Musica Pittura e Dintorni)

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