MOTHER (H)E(ART)(H)
"Times are words,
Moments are pages,
Ages are chapters,"
written as code in between the wings of time
Flying away like a bird running from extinction
Life — a wife that doesn't find reason to live
She gave birth to a bonny lass, with treasures
hidden deep beneath the pores of her face
Her heart is the fertile meadow, where seeds
are cultivated into trees of love, faith & hope
She's the beautiful maiden that caresses the
King's feet at night, as the grey moon melts
Into the dark sky with zillion dazzling stars
falling back Into her eyes like the reflection
Of light rays from the fields of ice at sea
She's the living womb from a womb that enwomb,
Laced with mountains & hills, where children suckle
Wisdom from the milk & honey that flows like river,
Running through her sacred thorax down to her body.
She's that beautiful roadside colorful lily & rose,
Trampled upon by heavy feet & life moving autos,
Downtrodden, crushed & bruised with scars imprint,
Broken, fragmented into rock pieces & sand grains,
Melt into dust, blown from west to east, north & south,
Rain fell upon & erosion washed off her alluring face.
She's bruised, yet not broken.
"She's a woman,
She's a mother,
She's beautiful."
©® Jamiu Ahmed.
For Mirii Miryam
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