in

Born Again: A poem by Gomathi Mohan

Born to doting parents on a chilly winter noon, 
Grew up with four siblings, life was like a boon.  
Then came an abrupt end to all my idle fooling, 
Born again to lessons, as they started my schooling. 

Thought had grown up, now that I was in college, 
Born again to lectures, busy acquiring knowledge. 

Got a job to my relief, set about to make a career, 
Born again despite the whims of bosses every year.      
            
Married, now that I was grown up, happy to be released, 
Born again, at my new home, with many to be pleased. 

Then came my li’l Angel, happy the cycle had ended, 
Born again as a parent, on us,  she wholly depended. 


Finally put in my papers,  wanting to be an idyll, 
Inner self, however, wanted my passion to unbridle.     

Born again a writer, having found my Muse, 
Loving it every bit, a life I got to choose.

A space of my own where my soul finds repose, 
Penning away as mind dictates,  poetry or prose. 

In and out of stages, born with every role we play, 
Not by finding but creating,  ourselves along the way. 

“Life is like riding a bicycle, to keep your balance,  
you must keep moving” in Albert Einstein’s parlance. 
For that delectable recipe of life, we need this secret spice, 

Being born again makes sapid,  life’s every single slice.