A journey that begins in her womb
And continues till her tomb,
For even when she is no more
Her blessings are never o’er.
From the implanting of the little seed
To its growth with hands and feet,
The beating of the tiny heart
Of her being; the most precious part,
Forever bonded by an invisible cord,
That can withstand any discord.
She experiences a gamut of emotions,
Sometimes whole, sometimes in portions,
Pain, anxiety, and joy,
The ceaseless suspense — girl or boy!
Her life revolves around its existence,
Defends it, no matter how grave the resistance,
Those sleepless nights, those unending hurdles
Are worth their while, when to her, her baby snuggles.
Overwhelmed by a feeling of pride
To watch the apple of her eye ride,
Through the trials and tribulations of life,
With a winsome smile to survive.
A mother’s love is so profound
By no distance, it can be bound,
Sturdy as a mountain, soft as a flower,
To protect her child she can wield all her power.
She traverses paths unthread
Bereft of any fear or dread
An epitome of patience, tolerance, and sacrifice,
Sheathing all his sins and vice.
Mothers are the Almighty’s very own form,
To guard her offspring from rain, hail, and storm,
If this poem has stuck a chord,
Then all mothers we need to applaud.
– By Shabnam Burk