I see her clinging to the railings
That trap her within towering walls :
Walls that now seem alien to her.
I watch her stare blankly at a road
That rushes past noisily –
A haze of moving bodies racing from
One end to another.
I know she waits,
As she did aeons ago,
For the sound of tiny feet
Racing home from school.
She waits till the shadows curl around her,
Like the creases on her face
That have curled around her heart.
Slowly she moves away.
Another day of waiting goes by.
She hums a lullaby.
Perhaps her son, somewhere, is awake.
A painting by words,leading to a story told so frequently,yet untold.love your expression and choice of words😍
A paint-poem that kindles emotions in the reader and reminds that the poetess is a very sensitive teacher who realizes that a child grows up to forget but a mother remains ever young in the memories that bind her.
Ah, this tugged at my heart. What beautiful imagery! Brilliant work, Jaya ma'am.
Indeed Ma'am.. it's Beautifully expressed:) Keep going.
Indeed Ma'am.. it's Beautifully expressed:) Keep going.
These r emotions eched on the of a mother — yesterday, today and forever no matter what we live in or are at.
Salutes.