LOVE FOR A BABY, MOTHERHOOD

He is crying with little eyes

Filled with tears,

His mother is working

And chants songs

Form a little distance.

He is not in mood

To hear music or whispering

Of love rhymes

And cries all along,

Throwing little hands and feet

Over air, moving small body

On his single tiny bed,

And his crying fills the air,

With the urge to be with him,

And everything to be turned on his side.

His mom comes running,

With hands rubbing in towel,

So as to keep her water-soaked-hands dry,

And takes hastily the baby
In her lap full of love,

And gives him breast feeding,

And the baby sleeps down.

His mom does not let him down

On the little bed, and

Sits carefully as she is feeding the baby,

And looks deeply on innocent-baby-face

With love and care,

With violet mind to feel the morning,
And its identity, resting on his face, 

That mother-heart wants to fill her heart

With love, dripped drop by drop,

Like water filling the empty bowl

That is placed to be filled up with love,

And divinity with motherhood

That she wants to feel

On unbound waves of heavenly little fists
Scored with love and golden hours of creation of life.