The mother

this poem is dedicated to all the women who undergo the terrible trauma of abortion and not being able to becum a mother.




The mother

She is there in you, in your tired soul
In the throbbing of your very beat,
She runs like the sacred river
In the bed of your womb.
She is not lost, neither she is defeated
Her world is of love,--- keep her alive
She is not a sinner, even though to the world she may seem,
Her sanctity still remains in her very breath.
The pain like the rain keeps flowing through her veins…I know
Those drops are divine, let them remain so
Do not hurt her, she bleeds already
The flowers in her dreams have been pricked by many thorns
Her silence speaks---listen to those words,
She just needs love because everything else she has got.
Courage and strength, is set in her soul
She is the mother of my world, please make her yours…