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Sunday, May 6, 2012

Maa's arms

‘Maa’ I wailed when I fell of the stool
Yet she glanced and turned her head away
I was 4 and little did I know
That glance meant the wound wasn’t that grave.

I got older and the glances lessened
My trials and tribulations
Were of far more sophistication
At least that’s what I thought
When I struggled through
In Ma’s arms I found comfort and mute

Her hugs were silent
The right touch and strength
In them I found solace
A force I couldn’t bend

Such depth such warmth
Affirmation and a pinch of pride
‘It was ok to let go’
Whatever that was made me cry

Silence became the cue
But her arms were the cure
I would close my eyes
In the darkness I would be lost

For that moment of time
No world berated
Only ma’s arms became
The sole of my existence

Sometimes I tease this nonchalant habit
An indulgence of sorts where I‘m lost
Maa never wonders why I succumb
She just waits for me
Patient and undone.