AN ODE BEYOND EXPRESSION

 

This poem is very different from what I have written on this blog earlier. A few days back, I celebrated my birthday, and as my mind wandered into yet another session of introspection, it struck me why this day has been so close to my heart. This was the day I saw the person dearest to me for the first time, my mum. I have tried to pen down a few heartfelt words. If I need to describe exactly how I feel, even a billion pages won’t suffice, so I won’t even try that. However, I hope a pinch of it might unveil a bare glimpse. Let’s take a look at the song my mom is too humble to sing…

This isn’t a reveal, definitely not an epiphany either;
It’s a reality I live with, a venture I dwell in,
Here goes a tale of an unsung hero, a song she never sings.

My shield from the cacophony of relentless sneers, eyes ablaze in fervent flame;
A visionary with a broken smile, you see a facade concealing every scar’s name;
The sacrifices she wraps in love, the limits she put on herself to obliviate mine;
The stabs she took to lift me, yes, I am the witness of her evanescent zeal;
Here goes a tale of an unsung hero, a song she never sings.

Nine or nineteen, it didn’t matter to her; she listened to my musings ever keen;
A friend, a guide, a teacher, a student, she has been all to me;
She’s my harbinger of an existence beyond transience, her smiles my tangerine;
She’s not just my mother; she’s what’s in me I cherish;
Here I end just a trace of that tale, a song she never sings.

© Megha Bose 2020