Poetry: Ode to my son

Nupur’s ODE TO HER SON

Nobody taught me how to be,

A mother, except you,

My little cherubic child.

I have learnt on the go,

Like a painter flowing free

On a blank canvas-

Guided only by impulse and art.

We pluck flowers and blow them away

As the winds heat up with an

Impending Indian summer,

Incubating within the belly of a monster

That I will fight tooth and nail

To keep you safe from,

But life isn’t about being safe,

I don’t want you to simply survive.

You are a king, my son;

Born to rule hearts and Lands

But mostly to rule your own destiny

And thrive.

As we sit cross-legged in the grass today

Like two friends with a secret,

I feel the sameness of our souls

and the congruence of our hearts.

Again a wind blows

And I am filled with peace-

Life feels lovely, like a song about happiness.

A ladybird sits on my knee,

and you laugh;

We try to feed it weeds and twigs,

And I wonder if I have learnt

Exactly how

To be a mother

Because I feel a comfort now

That was missing before-

And I’m sure it comes only

From the love and applause you give me.

I feel like a mother-

My life’s greatest victory.