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Bosom

dear mother, how can i fathom
the dearness by which I am loved?
the nearness by which our souls stand?
can i outlove my giver of life, whose heart
beats with me, awakening this transparent soul
with every borrowed minute of this  fleeting life?
how this shortness is recompensed by lasting eternal
affection,  how in thy bosom God  has cradled my body,
how through your tears, i’ve become the me that can
be seen thru love’s eyes… clearly, i do not claim to
understand how your touch can bring back all the
memories of infancy, those years when in utter
vulnerability i had a shield, and nothing can
possibly go wrong when thy gaze hovers
upon me, lighting my future with your
gentleness and frail kisses.  How
an eagle can soar through a
storm, nobody asks.  But
how flowers can bloom
against the elements,
that’s a wonder —
like the pure
love of a
mother.
– a bit Freudian, some may think.  My mother does not appreciate poetry that much, the love for poetry I got from my father.  So i made it visual, that way, if she gets to read it, she’ll get the point.  🙂

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