The (optional) prompt on Day Eighteen of #Na/GloPoWriMo challenges the poet to to write an abecedarian poem – a poem in which the word choice follows the words/order of the alphabet.
Yesterday a friend brought her twins over for a quick visit. Something about the visit jogged an old memory. So, I shared it with my friend.
"You know I've never had a clear image of your mother. You've mentioned her in passing." She said.
It made me reflect on how much of my mother I remember still. After thirty-two years.
I'm not sure if the poem I wrote today is an ode to my mother or an ode to my memories of her.
The poem has now expired. But, the moon will shine for sometime on this page:)
Thank you for visiting. If there are thoughts or views that you'd like to share after reading this poem, I'll be here.
I love this poem. Your mother seems cool and awesome. I like the Punjabi words. Even though I do not know all of them, I love reading them because they add to the spirit of the poem.
ReplyDeleteThank you Charlene.
DeleteYou love and admiration for your mummy ouzes out of every word here
ReplyDeleteThank you Graham.
DeleteThe line "so quiet she'd become darkness". Wow! Powerful poem
ReplyDeleteThank you Bryan.
DeleteLoved this. It glitters;
ReplyDeleteThank you:)
DeleteHari OM
ReplyDeleteOh, Arti... whether of her or your memories, matters not. This is stunning... YAM xx
Thank you Yamini:)
DeleteI remember your mother from last year's A to Z. The moon photo is perfect.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kristin:)
DeleteThis brought tears to my eyes.
ReplyDeleteTo have felt that kind of love. To taste those flavours that fill up your soul. To hear the laughter in a house full of happy guests. To feel the heat of that tandoor. To be protected by the shade of the mulberry tree. To feel the safety that only her dupatta could bring.
Then to have it all taken away.
But then to find your own ground.
Which you have done most graciously. And artfully! And with your heart and soul. And a few times over. You entertain and woo your guests off their feet with the most flavourful food as their eyes dance around your home taking in their surroundings that have been endowed with happy memories. You share your stories of your times away and the people you meet with such childlike excitement and zest. You welcome your friends with a warmth that shows them how much they are loved.
Love is everything. You feel it. You share it. You are it. And you'll always carry it in your veins like the blood that's been passed to you.
Thank you Gauri. I'm all emotional after reading this love-pour:) Blessed to have friends like you in my life. Love you. xx
DeleteOh what a beautiful, tender poem!
ReplyDeleteThank you Elizabeth:)
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