Listen To The Article:
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There is the love of mother that needs no senses to feel its expression.
And, that’s where I begin my journey of this life with you.
In that vintage picture, I think of how you became a woman coming of age.
Wounds of the uprooting I haven’t seen yet, or any trepidations you store.
Even in the testiest times, there was a decorum that played out at home,
proving that the mind is a sanctuary of our well-being and existence.
Being unassuming, shocking everyone with that touch of brilliance you possess,
turning your love into lessons of courage and gratitude.
Those private laughs we had, belying our mutual unsettling worries,
you amazed me with the depths of your knowledge of life.
There is that unreasonable kindness I have learnt by being around you,
teaching me that we all have in us to love others not part of the family.
You are the only sustaining force of my upbringing,
the smell of food and those festival sweets notwithstanding.
Turning everyone into saints in your path with your authoritative empathy,
And arresting thousands with your charm and thoughtfulness.
Brutally defending our peace of mind for your torments,
Outpacing yourself while stitching sacrifices and time into the tapestry of life.
Your high standards for everyone but me, your tenderness towards my struggles,
making sure to realize that I am special and worthy of being loved.
It is a tall order to preserve the tradition of motherhood handed down to me.
Never to settle with the life that we are capable of creating for ourselves.
And over a few tea rings of my cup of life,
I will laugh out heartily if I hear that someone else had the best mother of the world.
I love you and I will always live in awe of you.
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© The Internet
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About The Article Author:
Our mission with FutureSTRONG Academy – to grow children who respect themselves, their time and their capabilities in a world where distractions are just a click or a swipe away.
I see myself as an advocate for bringing social, emotional and character development to families, schools and communities. I never want to let this idea out of my sight – Our children are not just GPAs. I’m a Writer and a Certified Master Coach in NLP and CBT. Until 2017, I was also a Big Data Scientist. In December of 2044, I hope to win the Nobel. Namasté.
Write to me or call me. Tell me what support from me looks like.
Rachana Nadella-Somayajula,
Program Director & Essential Life Skills Coach for Kids and Busy Parents
Poetry
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Dear Refugee, My Life Must Go On..
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* It's not the lack of money that makes me cry like my heart is about to burst.You want to know what it is? It's something you have or don't more than I do, because there's no straight finish line here.It ticks away silently mocking our indignant ways...
Perceiving My Anthropology
* I don't know what moves him.I remember the day he came back home tohide his red eyes behind that newspaperafter he lit his mother's pyre.This is the man, the brunt of all my emotions,whose lifetime fits in this poem. It's mostly the appalling nature of...
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