From the memories of childhood impressed upon my mind,

I recall the day we had our first disagreement.

I was three.

Mother, you looked so beautiful!

‘I hate you.’

I scribbled on the drawing book

In my big, obscure handwriting.

You nodded and walked away.

Was it a tear I saw at the corner of your eye?

It was a long time ago.

I turn to see you smiling,

Reliving the day with me.

You are aging now, Mother.

My beautiful mother – wrinkled and freckled.

A sudden flash of thoughts;

Insecurity creeps in.

I was naive then, I know now.

‘Stay with me forever, Mother’;

I lunge at you like my childhood self.

You gently pat my back –

With a hint of tears in your eyes

And a rejected, desolate sadness

Etched across your beautiful face.

The tears were there then;

The tears are here still.

________________________________________________________________

Shefali Banerji

http://www.instagram.com/weaving_poetry

Image Source: Internet